


A Match Made In...

by vulcanhighblood



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alpha Hatake Kakashi, Alpha Mitarashi Anko, Alpha Yamato | Tenzou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mizuki is a GARBAGE, Mutual Pining, Omega Umino Iruka, POV Alternating, Past Rape/Non-con, Slow Burn, Soft Hatake Kakashi, Umino Iruka Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27904708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanhighblood/pseuds/vulcanhighblood
Summary: When Iruka presented as an omega, he made his peace with the fact that he wasn't allowed to serve as a Konoha shinobi. Now, at 18 years of age, the council has demanded that he mate Hatake Kakashi, notorious cold-blooded killer, for the good of the village.
Relationships: Hagane Kotetsu/Kamizuki Izumo, Hatake Kakashi & Yamato | Tenzou, Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Mitarashi Anko & Umino Iruka
Comments: 398
Kudos: 1085





	1. No Choice

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Harmonized Amalgamation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1284361) by [IMySpyEye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMySpyEye/pseuds/IMySpyEye). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka gets some disturbing news. He's not sure how to respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A NOTE BEFORE WE BEGIN:**  
>  This fic contains references to past Non-Con and will likely include a non-graphic depiction of attempted Non-Con. There will be warnings at the beginnings of chapters with direct references to Non-Con, and a summary of the key events of the chapter in the notes in the event that you don't want to read it. No non-con happens between the main pairing, and nothing happens "on-screen", so I've chosen not to use that archive warning, though I've tagged it extensively AND mentioned it here. Please take care of yourself and skip the chapters if you need to.
> 
> On that note, please enjoy the fic~!

“Good afternoon, Iruka,” the Sandaime Hokage said warmly as Iruka entered his office. 

Iruka was here for his weekly tea with the Hokage, a tradition that had begun in childhood when his parents had died in the line of duty and Iruka had tried to fill the empty space in his heart with pranks and other reckless bids for attention. It hadn’t worked all that well, but it had succeeded in drawing the eye of the Sandaime Hokage. Even more impressive, Iruka had managed to remain of interest to the wizened old alpha for the past eight years. When he’d presented as an omega at age twelve, he’d been positive that the village ruler would want nothing more to do with him, but Hiruzen Sarutobi had proved to be unmoved by Iruka’s presentation.

Not so the rest of Konoha, it turned out. He’d presented a mere two weeks before he would have graduated from the Academy, and was given two options by his teachers. The first was to go into the honeypot squads, specially trained omegas who operated in brothels and red-light districts all across fire country. They were dispatched as mainly information-gathering operatives and saw very little combat, if any. The second option was to find a new occupation, as omegas were not welcome in regular mission rotation. Given the choice between not getting to be a ninja like his parents before him, or being assigned to the honeypot squad, where he’d almost never see his home village again, Iruka chose to find a new career. He didn’t want to leave the only home he’d ever known.

Unfortunately, there just weren’t that many jobs available to omegas. After all, omegas were meant to be homebodies - their place was with their families, serving in the household until they mated, and joined the household of their alpha, where they would continue their duties. They weren’t supposed to be out in the world working or trying to support themselves, and while Iruka had been treated kindly by the Sandaime Hokage, he hadn’t been officially adopted into the Sarutobi family. He was still an Umino, the only Umino, and so he needed to work. 

Iruka started by working at Hokage Tower, mostly because it kept him under the watchful eye of the Hokage, earning him a measure of protection. He’d thought that you had to be a shinobi to work in the Tower, but it turned out not to be the case, though some training was required for certain duties. In order to work in the records room, Iruka was required to go through some counterintelligence training in case he was ever taken prisoner, and learn a few other skills, like codebreaking, in order to understand the system that stored the files. He actually took several classes with the omegas who had chosen to take the honeypot route, despite the fact that he was planning to remain in the village. 

He also took a few extra medical classes, not because he was required, but simply because he thought it might be a good idea. Due to the long hours spent around the Mission Desk and the Hokage’s office, Iruka saw wounded shinobi stumbling in and out of the Tower at all hours. He felt as though some basic first aid would be useful knowledge, at the very least. It took some serious pleading and sworn secrecy from the doctor he learned from, but eventually he was able to learn some basic medical ninjutsu. Not enough to qualify him as a medi-nin, and he certainly wasn’t allowed to advertise his knowledge, but he was able to use the skill once or twice when he found a collapsed shinobi in the Tower and needed to stabilize them before getting them to the hospital. 

All in all, Iruka had settled into his work at the Tower. The Hokage had encouraged him to continue his schooling, so Iruka had gone to a civilian school, and had eventually gotten a job working as a part-time caretaker at the local kindergarten. Between his work there and at the Tower, he made enough money to keep the lights on in his tiny bare-bones apartment, but not enough to live in a way that most would describe as ‘comfortable’. 

“Hokage-sama,” Iruka greeted, taking his seat on the other side of the Hokage’s low table and pouring tea for the older man before pouring tea for himself. “How are you today?”

“I am in good health,” the Hokage answered, his words stiff and overly formal. “And you, Iruka? How are you doing?”

Iruka frowned a little. This wasn’t usually how their conversations went. “I’m doing good,” he said slowly. “Is… something the matter?”

“I’m afraid so,” the Sandaime Hokage said softly, his fingers curling around his teacup, though he did not lift it to drink. “Tell me, Iruka, have you considered… mating?”

Iruka blinked hard. “Mating?” he picked up his teacup, sipping at the warm beverage before setting it down. “No, Hokage-sama, I can’t say that I have,” he confessed. “I don’t exactly have much to offer, I have no wealth or status, so I hadn’t realized there would be much interest.” 

Not to mention that he wasn’t exactly well liked or respected by the alpha population in general. As omegas were expected to stay home, the alphas he encountered didn’t take much of a liking to Iruka, especially when he worked in such a public position as the records room, which brought him out to the Mission Desk fairly often. He wasn’t interested in an alpha who couldn’t understand why Iruka would work to survive, and Iruka’s nickname of "the village-bound honeypot” hadn’t helped matters much. This was due to the fact that alphas tended to act as if any work being performed by an omega was a honeypot job by definition. Which Iruka found ridiculous, but nobody had asked him. 

“Has someone expressed an interest in courting me?” Iruka asked, not sure why else the Hokage would bring up mating. It would have been unexpected, but Iruka couldn’t entirely dismiss the idea of a suitor. Since Iruka had no other family, an alpha might see the Hokage as Iruka’s unofficial guardian, and ask him for permission to begin courting him. It was annoying to think that the Sarutobi patriarch would get that honor even though he’d never officially welcomed Iruka into his household. There was a big difference between adopting someone and having tea with them once a week. 

The Hokage coughed awkwardly, sipping his own tea for a moment before setting it down, shifting on his cushion before finally responding. “It wasn’t so much interest that was expressed,” he said slowly. “And there was no courtship offer brought to my attention. Rather, the council has made a decision regarding your status as an unmated omega in our village.”

This was a regular point of contention between Iruka and the village council. They found his insistence on working to support himself  _ unseemly, _ especially when he worked in such visible places as the kindergarten and the Tower. “What’s the problem  _ this _ time?” Iruka grumbled, wishing he could drop his head against the Hokage’s low table. It would make a satisfying thunk, and would adequately express his feelings. Instead, he picked up his tea and sipped it, lifting his eyebrows as he waited for the Hokage to answer.

“Not a problem with  _ you, _ exactly,” the Hokage explained, almost haltingly. “These past few months, the council has grown concerned about the increasing instability of an operative.”

Iruka nodded, frowning slightly as he took another sip of his tea. He wasn’t sure how this information pertained to him, but he didn’t like the defeated look in the Sandaime’s eyes one bit. He hoped this wasn’t going to be the day the Sandaime told him he was officially being drafted into the honeypot squads - unmated omegas were a valuable resource to the village, after all, and he had the training for such a placement.

“As you know,” the Hokage continued, sounding tired, “one of the best known methods of repairing an alpha asset’s stability is to provide them with a mate.”

Iruka felt his stomach clench at the Hokage’s words. Not a honeypot assignment, then. Something far, far  _ worse. _ “You want me to mate an  _ unstable alpha?” _ He couldn’t understand why the Hokage would ask such a thing of him! He had always been loyal and hardworking, he had always done his best to serve in whatever capacity he was able. But now he was being asked - not asked, told - to do something incredibly dangerous! “What if I’m not a good match?” Iruka asked quietly, forcing his voice to remain calm only with significant effort, considering how very badly he wanted to  _ scream. _ “If he doesn’t want me, wouldn’t it be even worse?”

“We’ve already provided him with a sample of your scent, along with the scent of four retired omegas from our honeypot division,” the Hokage answered tiredly. “He responded most favorably to yours. As you already have some basic self-defense training and a similar amount of knowledge as most honeypot retirees, your scent was added to the selection.”

Iruka wanted to ask why it was fine for  _ any _ of the omegas to just be  _ given away _ like objects by the council when they wanted to tame one of their precious alpha assets. He resisted the urge, because he knew there was no answer that he would find acceptable - this was just the way things were in Konoha. How they’d always been. That he’d been able to maintain his independence for eighteen years was impressive enough - he was already fairly old for an unmated omega, and the council, like most of the alphas he encountered, found his work in the Tower unseemly. He shouldn’t have been so surprised, they’d been trying to remove him from this position for years. He knew there had been pressure on the Hokage to get rid of him, pressure he had avoided for a time, but  _ this? _ This was more than just a removal, this was a slap in the face. Or worse, a death sentence. 

Alphas who were close to going feral had a nasty habit of murdering their mates during rages. To think that the Hokage would blithely allow him to be mated with an alpha like that… Iruka stared down at his cup, swallowing hard. He knew that the Hokage didn’t have as much power as he would like, that some decisions were out of his hands. But he would have hoped that the man could have used some of his remaining clout to save him from this horrible fate. “It has to be me?” Iruka asked softly.

“Iruka, would you force another into this position?” the Hokage returned just as softly, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Iruka didn’t like that - why should the  _ Hokage _ be disappointed in him when it was his decision to bend to the council’s whims that had put Iruka in this horrible position to begin with? Scowling, he set his cup down and rose to his feet. “Thank you for the information, Hokage-sama,” he said, bowing formally - in clear juxtaposition with the casual way with which he’d entered. If the Hokage was going to assign Iruka to this, he was going to do it as the Hokage, not as the kind mentor Iruka had happily worked with for years. “May I know the name of my intended, at least?”

“Of course, Iruka,” the Hokage said, his voice low and carefully neutral. “His name is Hatake Kakashi.”

Iruka felt his blood run cold. Hatake Kakashi. The  _ friend killer. _ An alpha notorious for his own teammates dying, and by his own hand, no less! This was the alpha on the brink of going  _ feral? _ The council truly  _ had _ wanted Iruka dead, hadn’t they? Wildly, Iruka wondered if there was even any truth to the scents supposedly offered to this raging alpha, if they’d ever actually considered the honeypot retirees. 

Had the Hokage just said that to reassure him? What if it was all just a set-up to be rid of Iruka once and for all? What if Hatake didn’t like Iruka’s scent and killed him for it? Iruka didn’t even have a family to demand justice if he were to be slain by the cold-blooded  _ friend killer. _ Then again, perhaps that was why the council had given him to Hatake in the first place - if something did happen to Iruka, it would be easy enough to sweep under the rug. If it came down to him or Hatake, they wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice Iruka if it meant they could continue using the living weapon that was Hatake Kakashi. Iruka was certain that even if he was killed in an alpha rage, the man would never have to face the consequences of slaughtering his omega. That was just the way their village worked. 

Fighting the urge to shudder, Iruka bowed again, saying nothing as he made his exit, slumping against the wall as soon as he left the Hokage’s office and burying his face in his hands. He couldn’t do this. He  _ couldn’t! _ It wasn’t even a matter of whether he wanted to or not, it was a simple matter of self preservation! He couldn’t allow himself to be given to someone like  _ cold-blooded Kakashi. _ He would die. He dropped his hands staring at them vacantly. If he’d been given the chance to become a shinobi, like his parents, he would have been asked to give his life for the village. As an omega, the only way he could serve was to offer his life on a platter in a last-ditch attempt to calm the beast raging within Konoha’s infamous copy ninja.

He didn’t want to. He hated the thought of it. Slowly, Iruka curled his hands into fists, lifting his head and forcing himself to move, mechanically returning to his Tower duties, his mind a million miles away. He couldn’t do this. He didn’t  _ want _ this.

He didn’t have a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This work is HEAVILY inspired by the (incomplete T.T) SasuNaru fic [Harmonized Amalgamation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1284361/chapters/2661370), though it is by no means a reproduction. If you read both fics, you may find some similar elements, though I really did try to make this story my own. Amusingly, I first read Harmonized Amalgamation because I wanted to find more omegaverse KakaIru, which is a background ship in the fic. Little did I know that I'd end up reading the fic 4 more times in the span of about 2 months. I've obsessed over it so much that I finally decided I needed to write my own version of "emotionally constipated alpha pines for a warm and vibrant omega sweetheart that was forced to marry him for the good of the village". Hope you enjoy it!


	2. Reeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi has a lifetime of blood on his hands and a deep darkness in his soul, but sometimes he wishes he was good enough for the omega he watches from afar.
> 
> He wasn't expecting this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter CWs can be found in the note at the end of the chapter!

_“Senpai,”_ came a soft voice, so far away from wherever Kakashi was now. _“Senpai,”_ the voice repeated, a bit more urgent this time. Tenzo. Tenzo was calling him, for some reason. Shutting his eye, Kakashi tried to focus on the voice, and suddenly it was clear, practically shouting in his ear. “Senpai!”

Kakashi’s eye flew open, and he spotted his ANBU kohai, Tenzo, who was giving him a _look._

“You were distracted again, Senpai,” Tenzo told him, sounding disappointed and vaguely concerned. “Was it the bloodlust?”

Blood? Kakashi glanced down at his hands, but they were clean. He huffed at that in bitter amusement. His hands would never truly be clean, not after the things he’d done with them. But they weren’t _physically_ stained by anything. “I don’t think so,” he answered as honestly as he could. “Just tired, I think.” His chakra thrummed weakly in him, nearly dwindled down to nothing after a long mission. Lately he’d been experiencing more extreme fatigue than usual, and he knew something was _off._ When he tried to bring it up with the Hokage - even going to the length of requesting psychiatric evaluation because he _knew_ something wasn’t right - he was quickly brushed off, told “Don’t worry about it” and “We’ll fix it”. He’d never gone for that psych eval, and the rebellious part of him wondered how the Hokage expected to _fix_ something when they didn’t even know what was wrong? 

This mission had really drained him, leaving him with the feeling like his mind was slowly drowning in the morass of _whatever_ was happening in his head. Kakashi couldn’t find the right words to explain what it felt like. He‘d tried to explain it to the Hokage, that his mind had become a cesspool, that somewhere inside him dark yawning chasm that seemed to grow larger every day, bubbling with ugliness and darkness that seemed to be leeching into his every thought, word, emotion… Whatever it was, it was _tainting_ him, somehow. He couldn’t explain it, and apparently the Hokage didn’t see any reason to send him off for further evaluation. He tried to keep his worries from his ANBU colleagues, though. Everyone was subjected to the occasional eval, but _requesting_ one? That would set off alarm bells. At best, they might report it up the chain, which would, admittedly, result in nothing too serious as he’d already admitted to needing help and had gotten a dismissive pat on the hand and sent off on the next mission. Still, letting it slip might lead to greater scrutiny here in ANBU, and Kakashi hated the way eyes on him made his skin crawl. He got enough stares and whispers in the village, he didn’t need them from his colleagues, too.

Tenzo’s posture eased slightly now that his captain appeared to be responsive. “That’s. Good? I was concerned,” he said awkwardly, tilting his head to observe him for a long moment before asking, “You heard, then?”

Kakashi blinked slowly. “Heard what?”

“Ah,” Tenzo said, this time sounding less relieved, “you were told to report to the Hokage for a special assignment.”

Kakashi frowned slightly. Again? So soon? He was on the verge of chakra exhaustion, mentally and physically drained, and he had several injuries that should probably be treated (though he'd rather just suffer at home than subject himself to the hospital busybodies). Sending his team out on another mission so soon would likely result in casualties. But it wasn’t his place to question orders, just follow them. He nodded in Tenzo’s direction, thanking him for the information, and rose from the bench where he’d been sitting for what had seemed like a minute but his stiff joints insisted had been close to an hour. “Take a break, Tenzo,” he said, “We all deserve one after that last mission.” 

“Yes sir,” Tenzo said, his eyes following Kakashi, a worried edge to his gaze in an otherwise expressionless face. “You should take one too.”

Kakashi snorted in amusement. The council didn’t seem particularly interested in giving him a break, and he wasn’t sure he’d even know what to do with spare time if he had it. All he seemed to do on his days off anymore was sleep like the dead or train until he could barely drag his aching body back to his shitty apartment to sleep like the dead again. “I’ll go see the Hokage now,” He said, plucking his Hound mask out of his things and settling it over his face. “Stay out of trouble,” he added, mostly as a joke. 

Tenzo, as usual, didn’t appreciate the gesture. “I should be saying that to _you,”_ he grumbled. 

Kakashi waved a hand dismissively, making his way to Hokage Tower. On his way to the Hokage’s office, he paused to admire Umino, the Hokage’s pet omega. He was in rare form that day, a scowl affixed to his features as he told off a pair of Chunin alphas who were trying to talk their way into the records room. Kakashi fought back a smirk. Eventually, every shinobi had a run-in with the irrepressible omega. Many of the less experienced shinobi - or perhaps merely the stubborn ones - seemed to think that if they threw their weight around hard enough, the omega would let them break protocol for their precious intelligence reports or whatever they were hoping to find. They, of course, couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Iruka was stubborn too, possibly more stubborn than anyone Kakashi had ever known. It was amusing, watching the way he refused to be bulldozed by another’s opinion, even when the expectation was for him to meekly accept anything said or done to him. Kakashi had admired the omega from afar for years now. He still remembered his first - his _only_ \- encounter with the omega. It was nearly five years ago, now. The boy had been released from his pre-Genin training only a year prior, but he’d taken the time to learn a few other skills in order to work in the Tower, providing him with a level of security clearance higher than many of the same shinobi who looked down on him. At the time, Kakashi had never really spared the kid a second glance, too focused on his own duties. That was, until the day he’d come to deliver an ANBU report to the Hokage and ended up collapsing in an open hallway from the severity of his wounds and chakra exhaustion. 

His eyes had flickered open to the gentle buzz of medical ninjutsu, prodding lightly at his wounds, easing the pain in his broken ribs, soothing the ache of his head where the hungry sharingan was always tearing at chakra that came too close. His head was pillowed in the soft lap of the young omega, who stared down at him, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he ran his hands across Kakashi’s ribs, over his chest. When the boy realized he was awake, he startled slightly. “Oh, shinobi-san,” he said, his voice quivering ever-so slightly, “you’re awake?”

Kakashi hadn’t known how to answer, hadn’t known what to say to those beautiful eyes staring down at him, the soft, gentle hands handling him with a care and compassion he hadn’t experienced in many years. Instead, he’d just allowed his eyes to flutter shut once more, revelling in the soft, warm hands that held him, healed him. If the Hokage wanted his damn report so bad, he could come and get it himself. He wasn’t about to leave the embrace of the omega - not for anything. 

He’d awoken several hours later in the hospital, the Hokage standing at the foot of his bed with one eyebrow lifted in curiosity. He’d delivered his mission report as succinctly as possible. Neither of them mentioned Iruka during that meeting. They didn’t have to.

Kakashi made sure not to encounter the omega ever again, but he watched him. He watched him grow from a lanky teen into a handsome young man, and as he grew, Kakashi’s feelings grew, too. It wasn’t right, it didn’t make sense to feel so strongly for someone who had only shown him a little kindness once. Iruka probably didn’t even remember doing it, he was a gentle soul who was always helping people. But his simple gesture had been more than Kakashi had received in a long time, and he longed to experience it again - though of course he knew he couldn’t. His darkness, his depravity… it would taint the omega. He was too broken, too damaged, too _filthy_ to allow himself near someone as pure and wonderful as Iruka. 

But he couldn’t stop himself from watching.

Once he’d had his fill of watching the beautiful omega turn away the pushy Chunin alphas, Kakashi, as silent and unnoticed as always, made his way to the Hokage’s office for his new assignment.

* * *

Huddled on Iruka’s couch, Izumo had one arm wrapped around him, as if he was afraid Iruka might disappear if he let go. “Oh, Iruka, I’m so sorry,” he said. “Even honeypots get to choose their mates after service, it’s not right for them to do this to you.”

Iruka patted Izumo’s arm, even though he didn’t quite have the words to thank him for his concern. Izumo had been a few years ahead of Iruka, and when he’d presented, he’d chosen the honeypot squad instead of quitting. He had been given the option to take early retirement at age 20, and had chosen to retire and spend more time with his chosen mate, Kotetsu. Kotetsu was with them, too. He hadn’t said much, but his expression was dark and he was holding Izumo tightly, as if afraid the council might take him away next.

Anko was on Iruka’s other side, growling low in her throat. “They can’t just give you away like that,” she growled, “you do good work in this village, they can’t treat you like this!”

“I appreciate the support,” Iruka said, trying very hard not to cry in front of his friends, “but they really can, and they have, and-”

“What the _fuck,_ Iruka!”

Iruka flinched at the snarl in Mizuki’s tone, leaning closer to Izumo and clutching at his shirt.

Growling, Mizuki continued. “Why the hell are you so willing to accept something like this?” he glared sharply at Iruka. “I thought you didn’t want to be a honeypot, huh? How is this any _fucking_ different?”

“I don’t have a choice!” Iruka shouted back, gripping Izumo’s shirt even harder. Why would Mizuki say something like that? He knew that Iruka didn’t have a choice, why would he act like this was something Iruka had _asked_ for? 

Eyes blazing, Mizuki leaned close. “Would the council change their minds if they _knew?”_

Iruka wanted to hit him for that, but he was still caught between Izumo and Anko, so instead he snarled, “They offered him honeypot retirees too, Mizuki. They said he chose my scent, that’s _all.”_

Anko’s arm tightened around Iruka as she glared at Mizuki, her own hackles raised by the uncalled-for aggression. “What the fuck, Mizuki? Leave Iruka alone! He didn’t ask for this, so why are you acting like this is all _his_ fault?”

“It’s not fair,” Mizuki growled. “Why would they just hand you over to Hatake like that? They didn’t even ask-”

Iruka wanted to strangle Mizuki as he began putting two and two together. “Is this about - are you still mad about that? It’s been _two years!”_ Mizuki had first made overtures towards Iruka after he passed the Chunin exam at age 14, but it had taken him another three years to make a serious declaration of interest. Iruka had declined his overtures for two reasons - the first being that Mizuki felt very strongly that Iruka shouldn’t work outside the home, and the second being that in all their time growing up, Iruka had never really seen Mizuki like that. “I thought you were over it,” Iruka added, feeling disgusted that he would choose _now,_ of all times, to remind Iruka of the unwanted overtures of affection.

“I thought I was over it too,” Mizuki snarled, in a voice that made it very clear he’d harbored no such illusion and _clearly_ Iruka shouldn’t have, either. “But then you go whoring yourself out to the fucking _friend killer,_ so what am I supposed to-” a sharp slap cut him off, and he growled, the sound rumbling low in his chest.

Hand still outstretched, Anko growled back. She’d moved so that her body was settled firmly between Mizuki and Iruka, and her posture was that of an alpha _itching_ for a fight. “Don’t you _dare_ talk to him that way,” she snarled. “He didn’t ask for this, and he sure as hell doesn’t need you _harassing him_ about something he didn’t even get to choose!”

“Maybe if he’d fucking made a choice sooner, this wouldn’t have happened!” Mizuki snarled, puffing out his chest and squaring his shoulders. “What’s so fucking bad about me anyway, huh, Iruka? Are you going to be _so much fucking happier_ with that murdering bastard?”

“Get out,” Iruka said softly, burying his face in Izumo’s shoulder, suddenly feeling _exhausted._ He’d asked his friends to come over for comfort, not to get into a screaming match. “Just go, Mizuki. I didn’t ask for a lecture.”

“I’m just saying-”

“Your opinions are not welcome here,” Anko snarled. “Get out until you get yourself sorted out, Mizuki. Stop being an asshole.”

“I’m not being an asshole!” Mizuki protested, “I’m just saying this could have been avoided-”

Now Kotetsu stood, one hand still resting on Izumo’s shoulder. “Mizuki. Enough.”

Mizuki might have been stupid enough to try and take on Anko, but he wasn’t quite worked up enough to consider taking on Anko _and_ a second opponent, too. Snarling, he whirled around and stomped to Iruka’s door, slamming it so hard on his way out that the frame groaned in protest.

“Good riddance,” Izumo muttered, patting Iruka’s head.

Iruka shut his eyes, burying his face deeper into Izuko’s shoulder. He hadn’t wanted to cry about this. He’d just wanted some comfort. He sniffed.

“Aww, Iruka,” Anko said, sinking back down beside him and wrapping her arms around him, releasing a comforting scent as she did. “It’ll be okay. Somehow, it’ll be okay…”

Iruka wanted to believe her.

* * *

Kakashi appeared in his apartment, heralded by a small burst of leaves. He cast his gaze around the space with wide, frantic eyes. It was wrong, wrong, everything here was wrong! It was a mess, he only had enough dishes for one person, his bed was small and old and the mattress was lumpy, he needed to - he had to - how the fuck was he supposed to make this a welcoming environment for an omega? He was half tempted to burn the whole apartment down and start over. Just as he was about to do that - katon wasn’t exactly a complicated jutsu - he heard a soft knock at the door. 

Shaking his head, somewhat grateful for the interruption, Kakashi went to see who was there. Outside his apartment stood his kohai, Tenzo. 

“I heard you’re getting mated,” Tenzo said, already moving to enter his apartment. If any other alpha had attempted this sort of blatant invasion of territory, Kakashi would have bristled. With Tenzo, it was a welcome gesture. It meant he was here to stay, to talk Kakashi through this mess. “When you left immediately, the Hokage worried you may not have processed the news fully, so he asked me to check on you.” Tenzo looked Kakashi up and down appraisingly. “Looks like you got the message, at least.”

“I got the message,” Kakashi agreed hoarsely. “I… I don’t know what to do now.”

Tenzo considered Kakashi for the span of several seconds before finally asking. “Do you know which omega they picked?”

Kakashi ran a hand through his hair, feeling the panic begin to resurge as the reality of his situation pressed down on him. “It’s - Umino - I don’t - What am I supposed to do?”

“Do you know _why_ they assigned you a mate?” Tenzo continued, apparently not convinced that Kakashi had really processed the details.

“My… episodes,” Kakashi said vaguely. “A sign of mental deterioration. Mating - or spending extended time with an established mate - is a common therapeutic intervention.”

Tenzo nodded slowly. “And what seems to be the problem here?” he swept an arm out, gesturing to the room at large.

Kakashi sighed exasperatedly. “Just look at this place, Tenzo! It’s barely big enough for _me,_ and I hardly even live here, considering all the missions that take me out of the village.”

Tenzo glanced around the apartment thoughtfully. “It is cramped,” he acknowledged with a slow nod. “You could rearrange a few things, or…”

“Or?” Kakashi glanced at Tenzo. 

“Technically, you do own the Hatake residence, don’t you?” Tenzo said carefully. “I know you’ve stayed in the Jonin barracks for many years, but have you considered…?” 

As much as Kakashi wanted to tell Tenzo he was a fool if he thought Kakashi would ever go back there willingly… he couldn’t. Because Tenzo was right. The Hatake residence was a good option. It had plenty of space, multiple rooms, a nice kitchen, a garden… though, given that he hadn’t been there in years, it was probably in sore need of upkeep. Maybe he should just burn down the _Hatake_ residence, and start over there instead of the Jonin barracks.

“It’s going to need a lot of work,” Kakashi said wearily, already tallying the days he had between now and the wedding. Only five. That would be cutting things close. He grimaced. 

“It will need work,” Tenzo agreed, “but it’s also got a lot more room than here. You could start with the bedroom and the kitchen and other shared living spaces that will require immediate use. Worry about the rest of the residence after you’ve mated.”

Kakashi swallowed hard, nodding slowly, trying to refocus on the task before him. “Right. I could get a bedroom and the kitchen cleaned up, at least,” he agreed. “I guess it was time I moved back home, anyway.”

Tenzo laid a gentle hand on Kakashi’s shoulder, gazing at him with concern. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Kakashi appreciated the gesture, more than he could confidently express in words. “If you would.”

Tenzo nodded primly. “Then let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter CWs:** In the first scene, some implied dissociation. Second scene, there is a minor reference to past non-con, and Mizuki uses a slur that demeans sex workers.
> 
>  **Author Note:**  
>  Welp, it seems I'm not the only one who dearly loved Harmonized Amalgamation!  
> I'm overwhelmed by the positive response to this story, I really hope that you continue to enjoy it! As I said before, it's not going to follow Harmonized Amalgamation exactly, but I do hope that some of the themes I most enjoyed in that fic shine through here. 
> 
> Thanks again for all of the comments, kudos, and subscriptions!! It's so motivating! I hope to have the next chapter up soon. :D


	3. Wedding Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka has an awkward wedding day, mostly because Hatake won't stop staring at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the notes at the end for chapter warnings

The day of the wedding was rather anticlimactic, Iruka thought as he glanced nervously at his husband-to-be, Hatake Kakashi. The man stared back at him, cold and stoic, his lone eye lingering on Iruka in a way that made him shudder. He tried his best not to look as terrified as he felt - but it wasn’t easy, not when he was standing beside a man who might very well maul him in the morning. The morning after a wedding night he was dreading more and more as it slowly edged closer. 

Iruka forced his eyes to meet those of the officiant, trying his best to put the other man out of his mind for as long as possible. The ceremony passed by in a blur, Iruka was too stressed and terrified to remember any of it, except for the final exchanging of the cups, and then they were both hustled off without even a reception. It made sense, Iruka supposed. This wasn’t really a celebration, it was a matter of necessity. Besides, neither he nor Hatake had any parents to acknowledge, and Iruka was pretty sure Hatake had killed most of his own friends.

It wasn’t exactly kind of him to say such a thing about the other man, even in the privacy of his own mind, but Iruka was stressed and anxious and less willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt when the alternative was being murdered. Not that Iruka held out much hope for being able to save himself if he were attacked by someone known to be the master of a thousand jutsu. Feral or not, the alpha was clearly stronger than Iruka, and Hatake would only need one of those thousand techniques to take him out. 

With the wedding ceremony finished, Iruka picked up the two duffel bags filled with the personal effects he’d collected over the last eight years of his life. He glanced at Hatake, trying to hide the trepidation he felt. Hatake said nothing, simply turning and walking down the street. Iruka had expected him to head in the direction of the Jonin barracks, since that was where he’d heard the man lived. Instead, the man began walking in the opposite direction. Iruka followed, his trepidation growing as they moved further and further towards the outskirts of the village. Was Hatake not even bothering to take him home? Was he just going to drag him out to the training fields and murder him there? 

He nearly ran into the man when he came to a stop, so frantic to identity his surroundings that he forgot to notice the man in front of him. It was an old neighborhood, a district full of worn wooden houses and clearly owned by people with more wealth than Iruka could ever dream of. His own parents hadn’t been particularly well off, so he’d never really seen this side of Konoha before. He gazed in wonder at the houses around them, only to nearly collide with Hatake’s back when the man stopped abruptly.

He swallowed the yelp that threatened to crawl up his throat, stepping back and trying to still his pounding heart. Hatake wouldn’t kill him for bumping into him accidentally, would he? He hoped not. Blinking in surprise, Iruka watched as the man slowly pushed open the door set in a worn wooden gate, revealing a stone pathway curving its way towards a house that looked like it had seen better days. Better decades, even. Nervously, Iruka followed Hatake through the gates, feeling the warm thrum of chakra pass over him as he stepped under the archway. Huh. Although the house was old and looked practically abandoned, the wards felt new and active. Iruka wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

Hatake stepped inside, still silent, and kicked off his shoes, easing his feet into a pair of slippers, tossing down a second pair and stepping back, waiting for Iruka to slip them on, that dark eye of his assessing, calculating, watching Iruka’s every movement.

It shouldn’t be so stressful to put on a simple slipper, Iruka thought anxiously, but here he was, hands shaking as he moved to pick up the slippers. One of his bags, hoisted over his shoulder, began to slide off and he lunged to catch it. Before he could, the bag was picked up, pulled off of his arm, and slung over Hatake’s shoulder. He still said nothing, continuing to stare at Iruka with that inscrutable gaze as he waited.

Iruka fumbled his feet into the slippers, bowing low and apologizing. “I’m so sorry,” he said, “I should have had a more firm grip on my bag.”

“It’s fine,” Hatake said, his voice surprisingly smooth. Iruka wasn’t sure what he’d expected - a demonic growl, maybe? In any case it sounded… nice? Almost warm. Certainly not what he’d expected. “I can take the other bag, too, if you’d like.”

Iruka shook his head slowly. “It’s all right,” he said meekly, “Thank you for taking the one, I think I can more easily manage this one.”

Hatake inclined his head slightly before turning and walking away, again, with no other words to indicate whether he was pleased or displeased with the situation. Iruka followed as they made their way across the entry before shedding their slippers at the sliding doors to a large tatami room with a kotatsu taking up a large portion of the open space. After crossing to the left side of the room, Hatake laid a hand on the sliding door before them. “This is your room,” he said. “The toilet is down the hall, outside that door,” he pointed to the sliding screens opposite Iruka’s room. “My room is there,” he pointed to the doors across from where they’d entered. “If you need anything, please inform me.” 

Iruka nodded, trying to remember everything he’d just been told. “The kitchen?” he asked.

“Back that way,” Hatake pointed to the door they’d just entered through. “Kitchen is at the end of the hall. Baths are on the left. The study is across from the front door - please don’t enter it.”

Iruka nodded, mentally mapping the locations as he listened. “Of course. Do you… would you…” he fumbled for words, not sure if he was doing this right. “Shall I cook some dinner for you?” 

Hatake tilted his head slightly, staring at Iruka with that dark, fathomless eye of his. “Can you cook?” he finally asked. “You’re always getting ramen or buying takeout.”

Iruka stiffened, wanting to feel affronted but Hatake was right - he rarely cooked. “I… might be able to,” he said sheepishly. He didn’t want to think about  _ how  _ the man had known about his daily habits - was Iruka so interesting that he was the topic of Jonin gossip?

“It’s fine,” Hatake said dismissively. “I’ll cook.”

Iruka blinked, not sure what to make of that. An  _ alpha, _ doing the housework? A  _ feral _ alpha? “Are you sure?” he asked, wondering if this was maybe a bad sign. “I could do it… or I could help, anyway.”

Hatake glanced at him, lifting his eyebrow in what seemed to be amusement. “Why don’t you get unpacked,” he suggested, shifting Iruka’s bag from his shoulder as if it weighed nothing, setting it in front of the door to Iruka’s room. “Maybe you can help cook tomorrow.” With that, he turned and left the room, sliding the doors shut behind him, his slippered feet making no sound whatsoever as he presumably went to the kitchen to cook dinner.

Iruka gaped down at his bags on the floor in disbelief. This was not at  _ all _ what he’d expected. He’d never actually met the man before - presumably because he did the sort of jobs where one reported to the Hokage directly, which was above Iruka’s security clearance. He’d expected someone known by the name  _ cold-blooded Kakashi _ to be cruel, vicious, demanding. Not… not the sort of alpha who told their new omega to unpack their bags while they cooked dinner! 

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Iruka tugged his bag back up onto his shoulder with a grunt, marveling at how the alpha had carried it as if it were nothing. He slid open the screens to his room and found himself amazed by how spacious it was - the room was bigger than Iruka’s old apartment had been in its entirety! Hatake had even gone to the trouble of providing him with a futon and low table, a tea set perched stop it prettily. The tatami mats were fresh, the bed linens looked practically unused - had he bought Iruka a new bed? - and the closets were so spacious Iruka had no doubt he’d be able to fit all of his things inside with no difficulty whatsoever. There was a small heat stove in the corner, and a large mirror hanging on the door of one of the closets. Iruka marveled at the room, at the thoughtfulness of the man who had prepared such a space for him. He supposed that a job like Hatake’s must pay quite handsomely, which explained all the lovely furnishings, but he hadn’t expected an alpha on the tipping point of uncontrollable rages to be capable of such consideration. That he’d been willing to spend his hard earned money on someone like Iruka was the real shock.

Setting his bags down, Iruka began to unpack, carefully putting away his few possessions, taking a moment to inspect the bundle of scribbled crayon pictures and clunky origami figures his kindergarten students regularly foisted on him and arranging them in a little cardboard box before tucking it into the back of the closet. He hadn’t dared ask to keep his jobs, but he hoped Hatake would at least let him visit the kindergarten sometimes. He missed the children already. 

Once he’d finished unpacking, Iruka steeled his nerves and then moved back into the main room, blinking in surprise to see dishes were already set around the kotatsu. He was just turning to the door when it slid open and Hatake eased in, carrying a large pot. He nodded sharply to Iruka, gliding across the floor to the kotatsu, setting down the pot. “Rice,” he said. “I’ll be back with the rest of it.” Then he was gliding out the door again, pausing only infinitesimally to slide his feet back into those silent slippers. 

Iruka watched him go, staring blankly at the door Hatake had shut behind him as he went. He wasn’t sure how to feel about being waited on hand-and-foot by the man he fully expected to forcefully take him as soon as dinner was over. Would that make their wedding night better, to be fed by his new husband before he was forced to have carnal relations with him? It didn’t really make Iruka feel better. Instead, it made him feel slightly ill. He stared down at the glazed earthenware pot, ostensibly containing  _ rice. _ He wasn’t sure he wanted to eat anything, but would it be seen as insulting to not eat the food painstakingly prepared by his alpha? It probably would. He should at least try to eat, probably. 

Biting his lip, Iruka shuffled his feet in the middle of the room, not sure what to do. He noticed that the heater hadn’t been turned on, and he wondered if that was intentional, or if Hatake simply hadn’t bothered. There had been a small gas heater in his room, too. He hadn’t turned it on, mostly because he hadn’t planned on spending the night in his room - though maybe Hatake would kick him out after they consummated the marriage? Iruka thought that might be preferable to spending the whole night sleeping beside an alpha who could go feral at any moment. 

As if summoned by Iruka’s dark thoughts, Hatake slid the door open once more, using his foot to ease the door open the rest of the way as his hands were occupied with a large tray. On the tray were several side dishes and a steaming plate of what looked like fish. It smelled  _ incredible, _ and even though Iruka was terrified, his stomach suddenly rumbled, reminding him that he’d been too nervous to eat all day.

Dark eye lifting from the tray to stare at him, Hatake raised his eyebrow slowly, and Iruka felt his face heat with a blush. He’d  _ heard _ his stomach! Iruka wanted to sink into the floor and disappear at how embarrassing it was to be caught out like that. 

“It smells good,” Iruka said weakly, shuffling his weight as he watched Hatake cross the room and set the tray down on the Kotatsu. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just one more thing,” Hatake told him, then glanced around the room. “Are you cold?” 

Iruka shrugged one shoulder. “A little,” he lied. It was very cold in the room, especially since Hatake’s home was a traditional residence and didn’t boast much in the way of insulation. 

“Turn on the heater, then,” Hatake indicated the space heater. “The kotatsu, too,” he added, nodding his head in the direction of the Kotatsu.

“Yes, of course,” Iruka stuttered, hurrying across the room to fumble with the heater. It looked like it needed to use a match to start it up, and he glanced around for something to use. “Uh, it needs a lighter?” Iruka said faintly.

“Ah,” Hatake said flatly, crouching next to the heater, on the opposite side as Iruka. “I forgot. I usually just do this -” and as he twisted on the gas, he extended a single finger in the space where the match would go. At the tip of his finger, a lone spark arced out, and the heater caught light immediately, creating a merry flame, its warmth reaching Iruka moments after it began working. 

“Oh!” Iruka gaped at the space where Hatake had lit the small heat stove. “That’s amazing!” he was so impressed by the show of carefully controlled chakra that he momentarily forgot to be afraid of the man crouched across from him. 

Hatake scratched at the back of his head, his eye tilting into what could almost be considered a smile. “Maa, it’s nothing special,” he said sheepishly. “I should get matches, though. Unless your chakra is also a lightning affinity…?” 

“Oh! No,” Iruka said, “It’s not. I don’t think.” He tried to remember if he’d ever learned his chakra affinity in the Academy. He didn’t think it had come up during his medical lessons or his RTI training. 

Hatake tilted his head curiously, that dark eye of his examining Iruka closely. Unconsciously, Iruka felt heat rising to his cheeks once more. Ugh. He had to stop getting so flustered, this really wasn’t going to help things later on in the evening when their activities escalated to less benign things than talking about their respective chakra affinities. 

As the silence grew longer between them, Iruka finally broke it by asking, “So does the kotatsu also need a spark?”

“Ah,” Hatake said vaguely, glancing at the Kotatsu. “Yes.”

Iruka shrugged a little. “I could go grab the last dish from the kitchen?” he suggested. “Since I can’t light the heaters?”

“An excellent suggestion,” Hatake said, rising to his feet in a graceful swoop. “And the heater in your room?” Hatake asked. “Shall I light it, too?”

Iruka blinked. Ah. So he  _ was _ going to be sent back to his room, after all. He wasn’t sure if he felt insulted or relieved. “Yes, please,” he answered, since whether he felt insulted or not, he still didn’t want to sleep in a cold room. 

Hatake nodded, lifting the edge of the wool blanket skirting the kotatsu. Taking that as his cue, Iruka hurried to the kitchen, shoving his feet back into the soft slippers and heading down the hall. He made note of the bath, on the left as Hatake had stated, then entered the kitchen. It was sparse, though still reasonably well stocked. The last dish appeared to be a small pot of soup, which Iruka picked up and carried back down the hall.

As he entered, Hatake was just leaving his room, sliding the door shut before turning to Iruka. 

“Soup?” Iruka asked, feeling stupid even as he spoke. 

Hatake nodded, indicating a thick piece of wood, placed there to prevent the pot’s residual heat from damaging the kotatsu tabletop. Iruka set it down and then stared at Hatake nervously. “Where do I sit?”

Hatake considered Iruka with his lone dark eye before finally shrugging. “Anywhere is fine,” he pronounced, sitting down on the side of the table nearest his own room, facing the doors that led to the entryway. 

After some consideration, Iruka sank to the floor at the seat facing Hatake. “This looks delicious,” he said nervously. 

Hatake shrugged one shoulder. “I usually cook when I’m home, but they’re mostly simple, filling foods - sorry I couldn’t make something special.”

“Oh, any home-cooked meal is special,” Iruka assured him, forgetting momentarily that he was speaking to the copy ninja and instead treating him like a friend who had invited him over for dinner.

Hatake did that thing where he might be smiling, but since only his eye was really visible it was hard to tell. Like Iruka, he’d been wearing everyday clothes for the wedding - while Iruka had worn his nicest pants - the ones without any holes, in other words - and a button-down, Hatake had been wearing his shinobi blues and flak vest, his hitai-ate pulled down over one eye. Iruka wondered absently if the man planned on changing clothes before their - er - consummation. Of course, since all that was required to formalize the mating was a knot and a bite on Iruka’s neck where his scenting gland was located, the man didn't really have to undress at all, if he didn’t want to. Iruka wasn’t sure how he felt about that. There were a lot of things about which he was having trouble sorting out his emotions.

Hatake was staring at him. Iruka ducked his head, avoiding the stare.  _ Now _ what had he done?

He heard a gentle scraping sound and a soft noise. Lifting his eyes, Iruka saw Hatake scooping a generous portion of rice from the pot, gently mounding it into a rice bowl before leaning forward, placing it in front of Iruka. 

He hadn’t heard the man pick up the bowl, just open the rice pot, and Iruka was half-convinced that was because he’d intentionally made noise so Iruka would look at him. It was all very odd, and left Iruka feeling off-balance. He had thought he’d known what to expect from a Konoha asset on the verge of breaking, but this was unlike anything he’d mentally prepared himself to face.

A bowl of warm soup was set down next to the bowl of rice, and Iruka glanced up again, realizing he had once more become distracted. “Oh, thank you,” he said faintly, gazing down at the soup and rice. A moment later, a plate with a piece of fish was placed before him, and two smaller dishes with side dishes followed a moment later. Iruka felt his face heating. He really should have been the one to cook, he thought, but even if he’d  _ attempted _ such a thing, it wouldn’t have looked half as delicious as the spread before him. “This looks delicious,” Iruka said, glancing up, feeling a genuine smile tug at his lips. “Thank you.”

Hatake nodded slowly. “My pleasure.”

Iruka wasn’t sure if he believed that, but the alpha didn’t seem upset, at least, so that was something. He clapped his hands together, muttering a quick “itadakimasu” before digging in. Across from him, the copy ninja did the same. Iruka did his best to keep his eyes fixed on his plate, worried that the man would want to keep his face hidden and not wanting to make him uncomfortable. He took a bite of the fish, and couldn’t help the small moan that escaped his lips. It was  _ so good! _ “Oh wow,” he said, then took a sip of the soup, which was similarly magnificent. What had the man said? That this was just simple food? Nothing special? Iruka hadn’t eaten this good in… oh, it had to be months since the last time he’d been treated to dinner with his friends. He couldn’t afford to eat out at fancy places on his own, but they’d demanded he join them. Hatake’s food was even better, though. The flavors were perfectly balanced, the textures were just right, even the  _ rice _ was like eating a perfect cloud. 

Iruka ate it all before he even remembered that he’d been too nervous to eat. He felt his face heat with sudden embarrassment. “Oh, I ate it all,” he said, glancing up at Hatake. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hatake blinked at him twice before finally responding. “I cooked for both of us. You don’t need to use restraint.”

Iruka clapped his hands to his cheeks in a failing effort to hide his embarrassment. “Thank you,” he said, “It was incredible. Where did you learn to cook?”

Hatake shrugged one shoulder. “Cookbooks.”

Iruka stared at him for a long moment before repeating flatly, “Cookbooks.”

Hatake nodded, the look in his eye seemed vaguely alarmed. 

Iruka had to laugh. “I guess you are a genius,” he said. “I can’t believe you learned from a  _ cookbook.” _

“I had a lot of time to practice,” Hatake added in a surprisingly soft voice. “After my father…”

Iruka swallowed hard at that. Right. Hatake had lost both of his parents, too. Chuckling awkwardly, Iruka scrubbed at the back of his head. “Well, I’ve had quite a few years of practice myself, and my cooking skills are  _ awful, _ so I’m still impressed.” He didn’t outright say that he’d lost his parents too, eight years ago in the Kyuubi attack, but his sentence held the implication that he’d also been without parents for a long time.

Hatake didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, so instead he began piling up his dishes.

Immediately, Iruka began stacking his own. “You cooked, so I’ll wash up,” he said. “It’s only fair.”

Hatake blinked back at him before slowly nodding. “I’ll help carry the dishes to the kitchen,” he said.

It turned into a two-person job, with Iruka washing and then handing the dishes to Kakashi, who wiped them down with a towel and put them away. Iruka made a note of where Kakashi put them so that he’d be more familiar with the locations for future meals. They didn’t speak, just working together in a silence that was quickly growing oppressive. 

Iruka didn’t know what to say, how to bring up the topic that was making his hands shake more and more as the number of dishes slowly dwindled. Finally, there were no dishes left and Iruka was staring down at an empty sink. Now what? 

Hatake didn’t seem to have any ideas, because after he put the last dish away he just stared blankly at Iruka for what felt like an eternity before finally saying, “I usually just take a bath and sleep after eating. Is there anything you want to do?”

Iruka wanted to scream. He wanted to get this miserable farce of a wedding night over with, that’s what he wanted to do. He was so tense he was practically vibrating, all of his muscles locked up and stiff. “A bath sounds nice,” Iruka said lamely, mostly because he figured if he didn’t take a bath he would definitely be in more pain come morning. 

“I’ll draw the bath, then,” Hatake said, leaving the kitchen. 

Iruka watched him go, wondering if he should do anything else to prepare himself for the inevitable. A part of him - the stubborn part that tended to annoy people - didn’t want to make this any easier for Hatake; after all, if he was going to forcibly take Iruka, he should know how terrible it would be for him. But he also didn’t want to suffer any permanent damage, so… 

With a sigh, Iruka resigned himself to taking a bit of time to prepare himself in the bath. He didn’t have to like it, but it didn’t have to hurt so badly if he put a bit of effort in ahead of time. He’d never gone into the honeypot squads, but he’d learned enough from Izumo to have a decent idea of how to prepare. He just never expected to use that knowledge in a situation like this.

He wished he had the option to refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CW:** descriptions of dreading rape/non-con, no actual sexual content
> 
>  **AN:** This chapter really dragged out longer than I expected, but also I'm a huge sucker for writing about food, lol. So of course it dragged out longer than expected (>.<;)  
> Anyway we'll get to the wedding night in Kakashi's POV, so look forward to that in the next chapter!!


	4. Wedding Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi doesn't know what to do with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are No Content Warnings for this chapter.

Kakashi fumbled with the hot water taps, feeling like his throat was closing up, making him choke on every breath. He still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to finish dinner, his entire mind seemed to be breaking up into static. Iruka was here. Iruka was  _ here!  _ In his home! Eating food he’d prepared, sitting at his table, washing his dishes! Every time their fingers had brushed when the omega handed him a bowl or a plate, he’d been half certain he would drop it from the shock of making actual physical contact. The gentle touch felt like electricity sparking through him, and he could barely contain himself. He wanted to wrap the omega up in his arms and hold him close and luxuriate in the warmth of another human being. Kakashi didn’t have many friends, and those few friends he’d managed to not kill or watch die were much better at combat than cuddling - Kakashi was, of course, no exception to this sad state of affairs. But Iruka… he hadn’t even  _ known _ Iruka and the omega had pillowed his head on his lap. Kakashi just wanted that again, wanted to make Iruka feel as safe and accepted and  _ wanted _ as that gesture had left him feeling all those years ago.

That was why Kakashi found himself so stressed now. He wanted everything to be perfect for Iruka. He wanted to make him feel safe and happy and comfortable - and he’d already fucked that up by forgetting to get matches for the stoves! Kakashi had blithely chopped vegetables in the kitchen while Iruka had been sitting alone in an unfamiliar room of this oversized house, unable to even light the heaters to keep warm. He hoped Iruka would forgive him for the oversight. 

Kakashi tested the temperature of the bath water, frowning. He liked his baths to run hot, almost scalding. But he wasn’t sure how hot Iruka liked his water. Maybe he preferred a warm bath, instead of a hot one? Did he like bath salts? Kakashi sometimes added some simple mineral salts to his bath when he soaked his stiff muscles and aching bones, would Iruka want that or just a normal hot water bath? Had Iruka brought any toiletries? Kakashi used mostly unscented or mildly scented products because of his sensitive nose - but maybe Iruka preferred something perfumed or floral-scented? He tried to remember what Iruka smelled like, but he hadn’t really been thinking about that when they’d been standing next to each other during the wedding ceremony. Grimacing, Kakashi left the water running and poked his head out of the bathroom, only to see that Iruka was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. “Ah, do you prefer hot water or warm water?” he asked.

Iruka blinked slowly. His eyes were like liquid pools of chocolate, sweet and warm. Kakashi would gladly drown in them. Gracefully, Iruka glided across the kitchen, heading towards the bath. “I like my baths hot,” he answered, answering carefully. He still sounded stiff, like he was weighing each word before he spoke it. 

Kakashi didn’t quite like that, and Iruka had been doing it all night. One of the things he loved about Iruka was how outspoken and honest he was, even if it wasn’t a popular opinion. He didn’t like seeing Iruka feel like he had to choose his words so carefully. He hoped, with a bit of time, the two of them would be more comfortable together. Maybe Iruka wouldn’t speak so carefully, then. Maybe he’d even stop calling him “Hatake” and call him “Kakashi” instead. 

“I only have basic toiletries,” Kakashi said, slowly pulling out the toiletries. He felt somewhat ashamed as he stared at the sad collection of bottles in his shower caddy - shampoo, conditioner, body wash. Not much, probably far less than Iruka was accustomed to. “But if there’s anything you want… I can buy it tomorrow.”

Iruka was staring at the bottles blankly, his face expressionless. That was probably a bad sign, Kakashi thought nervously. He must not like the toiletries. Why hadn’t he gone and bought Iruka some nicer toiletries? He was already ruining everything and they’d been sharing the Hatake residence for less than four hours at this point! 

“It’s fine,” Iruka said faintly, “I brought some of my own, too.” ...that was all the confirmation Kakashi needed to decide he’d definitely made a serious mistake by not buying Iruka his own toiletries. There was nothing more to do but make a note of the toiletries Iruka brought with him and buy him more when they started to run out. 

Kakashi wasn’t sure what to say, so he just sort of turned and walked back into the bathroom. Not the most graceful way to extricate himself from a conversation, but he’d never really claimed to be good at this sort of thing. He tested the water - nice and hot - and turned back to the door, where Iruka was watching him with a vaguely disconcerted look on his face. “You take the first bath,” Kakashi offered, “I’ll take the second.”    
  
If Iruka liked hot baths too, it only seemed right to make sure he got the hottest, freshest water. At his offer, Iruka’s posture relaxed slightly. “Oh,” he said, sounding relieved, “Okay, I’ll go get my… pajamas?” he glanced at Kakashi questioningly.

Kakashi nodded, not sure why Iruka would be uncertain about changing into pajamas, but not one to question it. He watched Iruka go, then headed off to his own room to wait until Iruka was done. 

Iruka spent a long time in the bath, but that seemed reasonable. After all, he’d been carrying two bags and seemed to struggle with the weight of them. Kakashi hadn’t had too much trouble with the one bag, but Iruka had carried them farther. He probably had sore shoulders, so the hot water soak likely did him some good. He wondered if he should have offered the mineral salts for the bath after all. He thought about knocking on the door and asking, but if Iruka was already soaking he didn’t want to disturb him.

Kakashi paced around the main room a few times, trying to figure out what else he could do to help Iruka feel at home. After some consideration, he went and brewed a pot of tea, setting it on the kotatsu beside two teacups. After a moment, he went back to the kitchen to find some snacks to go with the tea, but of course Kakashi didn’t eat snacks, so there weren’t any.  _ Another _ careless oversight! Kakashi could feel his head pounding from the stress of making sure everything was perfect for Iruka, and failing at every turn.

Finally, Kakashi gave up on the idea of a snack magically materializing in his kitchen and poked his head out the back door. Tenzo had said something about the orchard and garden, and although Kakashi didn’t quite trust that they were in working order (they’d focused on making the house habitable above all else), he was willing to go looking for some fresh fruit as a possible snack. He didn’t have to go far - apparently Tenzo had taken the time to drop off a few strawberry plants at his greenhouse. There were only about five ripe berries between the plants, but Kakashi figured they would make a decent snack to go with the tea. He picked the berries, wandering back into the kitchen and washing them before quartering them into a small bowl. He grabbed some toothpicks to serve them and carried them into the large tatami room, setting the strawberries next to the tea pot. 

Iruka was still in the bath. Kakashi poured himself a cup of tea, mostly just to keep his hands busy. He sipped it, trying to remember to breathe, slowly slouching under the kotatsu until the blanket was practically tucked under his chin as he stared forlornly at the strawberries. Iruka had been in the bath for almost an hour now - surely he was almost finished? True, Kakashi sometimes soaked for an hour or more after a long mission, but that wasn’t his typical bath. Maybe Iruka took longer baths than he usually did, though. 

Which was fine, of course, Kakashi told himself, pouring a third cup of tea and absently noting he was going to need to pee before long if he kept drinking tea to quell his nerves. As he drank, Kakashi eyed the strawberries, now second-guessing himself. Would Iruka even want a snack? Maybe he should have asked first. He didn’t even know if Iruka liked strawberries - what if Iruka didn’t like fruit? 

…His fears were growing more absurd by the minute, but Kakashi couldn’t quite figure out how to get his brain to  _ stop, _ so he just kept finding (inventing, really) new mistakes that he’d made in the hour since Iruka had gone to take a bath. What if Iruka had already brushed his teeth? What if he had fallen asleep in the bath? What if - 

It was at this point that Iruka finally emerged from the bath, walking into the main tatami room, doing a sharp double-take when he spotted Kakashi slouched under the kotatsu. He blinked in surprise before focusing on the pot of tea and strawberries.

“I made tea,” Kakashi said, realizing how obvious that fact was at around the same moment the words left his mouth. He fumbled for a clarification, but only managed to add, “The strawberries are from the greenhouse outside.” Because Kakashi had so many greenhouses _ inside? _ Rather than inflict more inane  _ obvious _ statements on his new mate, Kakashi eased back out from under the kotatsu blanket. “Help yourself,” he said, gesturing to the tea and strawberries, picking up his pajamas and heading to the bathroom for a soak of his own. 

Once in the bath, Kakashi quickly and methodically washed himself from head-to-toe before drawing back the bath cover and easing into the bath. The water was still quite warm, and he relaxed into the water, allowing some of the tension in his shoulders to bleed out into the surrounding warmth. He soaked until he could feel his face heating from the temperature, rather than embarrassment. Once he’d climbed out of the bath and dried off, he wandered back into the main room. Iruka was at the kotatsu, his back facing Kakashi. He paused, drinking in the sight of Iruka’s long hair pulled back in a loose braid, pulled forward over one shoulder, baring one side of his soft, delicate-looking throat. Iruka tended to wear high-collared shirts as part of his uniform, Kakashi realized as he gaped at the expanse of bare skin. He’d never seen Iruka so… exposed. 

Swallowing hard and fighting down the heat creeping into his cheeks at the direction his thoughts took at the sight of Iruka, Kakashi wandered to the other side of the kotatsu. He noted that Iruka appeared to have eaten only two pieces of strawberry. He eased back down to the cushion opposite Iruka. “You don’t like them?” he asked, indicating the strawberries with a short jerk of his head. 

“I…” Iruka’s fingers tightened around his empty teacup. “I’m still full from dinner,” he said, his voice strained. There was a bit of scent easing into the air between them, a nervous sort of smell. 

Kakashi grimaced, recognizing that Iruka was feeling uncomfortable but at a loss for how to  _ fix  _ it. He wished he knew how to make their interactions less stilted and awkward, but alas, easy conversation and small talk were not among his specialties. “I see,” was what Kakashi finally said, staring at the strawberries that he, too, didn’t want to eat. Perhaps they’d keep until the morning? He could wrap them up for the time being, anyway. He grabbed the bowl of strawberries before glancing at Iruka. “Done with your tea?” he asked, indicating the empty cup.

Iruka nodded slowly, scooting it towards Kakashi after a moment’s pause. “Thank you,” he seemed to be forcing the words through his teeth. “For the tea.”

“Ah. Yes,” Kakashi said before lapsing into silence as he stacked the two teacups, picking up the plate of berries and the now-empty teapot. He stared at the berries for a long moment before turning back to Iruka. “I already brushed my teeth if you want to brush yours,” Kakashi said, his eyes seemingly unable to leave Iruka for very long. Not that he was really  _ trying _ to look away. “Then I’m going to bed.” ‘Feel free to go to sleep whenever you want’ went unsaid, but Kakashi felt it was implied. 

Iruka’s shoulders tensed, but he nodded sharply. “I’ll brush my teeth,” he murmured, casting an anxious glance in Kakashi’s direction, another small bloom of nerves filling the air as he did so. 

Kakashi nodded, moving for the door so he could head to the kitchen and put away the berries and wash up the tea things. While he washed, he heard Iruka move into the bathroom, presumably to brush his teeth. Kakashi heard him move back down the hall not too much later. About a minute after Iruka finished brushing his teeth, Kakashi had finished washing the dish, teacups and teapot and put the strawberries away. He headed back down the hall himself, shedding his slippers at the door of the tatami room. When he stepped inside the room, it was already empty. So Iruka had decided to go to bed as well, it seemed. Part of Kakashi wished he’d been able to tell him good night, at least, but there would be more opportunities for that, probably. 

Kakashi moved to his room, sliding the paper door aside and stepping into the room before freezing, hands already twitching towards where he usually kept a few hidden blades handy. There was  _ someone else in his bedroom. _ Fortunately, his common sense reasserted itself before instinct had him on the offense, as he noted the soft breathing noises were coming from his  _ bed. _ His occupied bed. 

Iruka was in his bed. 

Kakashi stared at the small lump curled up under his old, ratty blanket, the scent of anxious omega standing out like a beacon amidst the usual smell of  _ alpha  _ that permeated the room. Iruka wasn’t moving, but his breath was coming in slow, controlled breaths, which meant he was probably awake. He just… wasn’t saying anything.

_ Why _ was Iruka in his bed? Did he not like his own room? Kakashi stared at the lump of Iruka huddled under the blanket, trying to figure out what this  _ meant. _ Did Iruka  _ want _ something? Was it a mistake? But how could he mistake a room like Kakashi’s, which smelled so strongly of alpha, for his own room, which Kakashi had conscientiously taken the time to air out after he and Tenzo had finished fixing it up? Did Iruka want Kakashi to scent his room, too? Why else would he be huddled in Kakashi’s bedsheets, when they were the only things in the whole house that smelled so strongly of alpha?

“Do you like my scent?” Kakashi finally asked, not sure how else to broach the topic. Deciding to try being _ straightforward, _ he added, “I can scent your room too.”

The sour smell of anxious omega ratcheted up another few notches. So that clearly wasn't it. Now Kakashi was absolutely wracking his brain trying to figure out what the hell Iruka was doing, burrowing inside his bed if he didn’t even like his scent? (And he was trying very hard not to feel offended by how  _ very displeased _ Iruka had smelled at the idea of Kakashi scenting his room. And he also wasn’t going to think about how his soft, comfortable,  _ safe _ bed now smelled like  _ distressed omega, _ because that was just going to make him feel worse about everything. He'd have to wash and re-scent his entire room tomorrow if Iruka kept scenting his bed with disgust and apprehension.)

Not really sure how to respond to what was effectively a non-answer from Iruka, Kakashi shifted his weight, moving towards his bed. Iruka flinched, the blanket he’d cocooned himself in making the movement obvious. Kakashi frowned at that, pausing for several seconds before he took another small step forward. Iruka seemed to curl up even tighter when he did so.  _ Clearly, _ he was uncomfortable with Kakashi’s proximity, but… if that was the case, why the hell had Iruka decided to sleep in  _ his _ bed? Was it a power play? Was Iruka trying to prove a point? Was this a challenge? 

Still huddled under the blanket, Iruka visibly cringed, and another sharp scent distinctly smelling of terrified omega escaped into the air. Kakashi realized he’d started to growl at the thought of being challenged, and mentally shook himself. This was hardly the time to be getting territorial, especially since Iruka was his  _ husband. _ With some effort, Kakashi managed to control the rumble building in his chest, though he could still feel it tangling in there with the frustration of being told  _ not _ to scent Iruka’s room even as Iruka scented all over  _ his _ bed, and - 

And why the hell was Iruka throwing off so much scent, anyway? Kakashi thought he’d trained with the honeypots and counterintelligence, so the fact that his scent was so blatant was coming as a bit of a shock. Did Iruka just wear scent-blockers all the time? If so, that explained why he suddenly smelled so stressed after taking a bath when he’d been releasing no scent at all earlier. Had Iruka been feeling like this all day?

Kakashi felt his stomach twist. Of  _ course _ he had, that’s why he’d used the scent blockers. Maybe he could control his scent normally, but was so upset about the arrangement that he couldn’t keep a tight rein on his scent and had opted for chemical scent control. 

Iruka had felt like this all day. 

Kakashi thought he was going to be sick, the scent of terror seeping through his blanket and permeating the air now filling his lungs, choking him with accusation. Of  _ course _ Iruka felt horrified, he was  _ gentle _ and  _ lovely _ and  _ kind  _ and  _ brilliant _ and… and… and Kakashi was a bloodstained  _ monster _ with a highly honed talent for  _ murder _ and absolutely nothing else of value to offer. Of course someone like Iruka would be afraid. Of  _ course _ he’d needed chemical scent control to even be in the same  _ room _ as him, much less share a dinner table! The only real question worth asking was why the  _ hell _ it had taken Kakashi so long to recognize Iruka’s discomfort for what it was.

But even that had a quick and deeply shameful answer. It had taken him so long to see the truth because he was a selfish asshole who couldn’t see past his own excitement at getting to spend more time with Iruka. Chastising himself, Kakashi began backing out of his room. He said something to Iruka, though he couldn’t have repeated himself even five seconds later, as he really wasn’t paying attention to his words at all, just saying  _ something _ to cover up.how badly shaken he was by this incident. As he spoke, he edged out of the room completely, shutting the door as soon as he finished saying whatever it was his mouth had taken upon itself to say. He stood outside his bedroom for an indeterminate period of time, just staring at the door in front of him, not really seeing, just taking a few extra minutes to hate himself for being such a monster. 

How had he not recognized Irika’s discomfort for what it was? The omega clearly wasn’t happy with the arrangement sprung upon them by the village council. Even though Kakashi had initially been thrilled to learn that Konoha had arranged for him to mate Iruka, now the thought just made him feel sick. Iruka didn’t want this. Didn’t want anything to do with him. Who was he to try and force Iruka into a situation that made him smell that upset? 

Swallowing hard, Kakashi stepped away from his bedroom door, glancing at Iruka’s room with a confused frown. Except… Why had Iruka chosen  _ Kakashi’s _ room? Iruka hadn’t wanted Kakashi’s scent in his own room, yet he’d gone and burrowed into Kakashi’s bed? Shaking his head sharply, Kakashi pushed the question aside for the time being. What really mattered was that he knew Iruka didn’t want Kakashi’s scent in his room. Still frowning, Kakashi turned to gaze at the kotatsu. He’d slept under it before, but he wasn’t sure if Iruka would want to eat anything if the table smelled of Kakashi. 

At a loss, Kakashi finally decided that he needed to remember that he was a shinobi and bear with a bit of discomfort. He had slept in rough conditions countless times before, and would continue to do so for most of his missions. If he could do it then, surely he could manage a bit of sleep on the outdoor deck, where he would feel more alert and be less likely to release his scent in his sleep. Mission sleep was almost always a short-lasting tense affair, so if he didn’t allow himself to get too comfortable, his scent control would probably stay active through the night. 

That decided, Kakashi eased open the sliding wooden doors before pausing. This deck was also the only route to the toilet. What if Iruka had to use the restroom during the night? Kakashi didn’t want him to not go due to his anxiety. After a moment’s consideration, Kakashi compromised by scooting to the very edge of the deck so there was a solid meter between him and the doorway, leaving a clear path to the toilet. As Kakashi settled down on the hard wooden slats of the Hatake Residence’s outdoor deck, he hoped that at least Iruka would manage to get a decent night’s sleep.

He knew for a fact that he wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly at this point I feel like I'm just trying to hurt Kakashi, the poor guy is really doing his best to make the most of an awkward situation and just.... failing miserably.  
> Poor guy still doesn't know what to do about Iruka, haha.   
> I'm blown away by the massive response I've gotten to this fic, thanks so much to everyone for your comments, they really encourage me to keep going! Next chapter will be back to Iruka POV. :)


	5. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka grows progressively more confused about what Hatake wants from him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of non-con, nothing happens

After a long bath and a stilted conversation following Hatake’s return from his own bath, the alpha had wandered off with the tea things and the remaining strawberries. Iruka brushed his teeth in something of a daze, every second that ticked by bringing him a little bit closer to what he was dreading.

He was back in the tatami room before the alpha had finished cleaning the dishes and for a moment Iruka had stood in the room, horrified and furious at the situation. In a moment of sheer audacity, he decided he didn’t feel like waiting for Hatake to take him to bed - he would make Hatake come to  _ him.  _ With that thought ringing in his head, Iruka yanked open the door to Hatake’s room. It was dark aside from the light in the tatami room spilling into the alpha’s private space, falling across an old, well-worn blanket tucked over a lumpy futon mattress. Convinced that if he waited much longer he would lose his nerve, Iruka closed the door behind himself, feeling his way over to the bed and lifting back the blanket.

He fought back a shudder as the thick, heavy scent of alpha filled his nostrils. The room itself had somewhat smelled of alpha, but clearly the man did not extend his scent control to his bed, as it fairly reeked of him. Wrinkling his nose, Iruka slipped into the bed. He should take off his pajamas, he’d heard lots of stories of alphas tearing clothes off and Iruka didn’t have many to spare - !

Before he could take off the pajamas, though, he heard soft footsteps return to the main room and panic instantly flooded his system. What he’d just done was incredibly forward and he wasn’t sure the alpha would respond favorably to his ill-thought-out intrusion. Horrified, Iruka grabbed the blanket, yanking it over his head and curling away from the door, which slid open a moment later. 

For a moment, Hatake was deathly silent, and Iruka wondered if this small show of defiance was going to become a fatal mistake.

Then, the alpha spoke, his smooth tone delivering a chilling message with a heavy sincerity that sent chills down Iruka’s spine. “Do you like my scent?” he practically leered. Iruka couldn’t even see his face - not that there was much to see even if he hadn’t been cowering under a blanket, with Hatake’s ever-present mask - but he just  _ knew _ Hatake was leering. “I can scent your room, too.”

Iruka felt his stomach churn. The smell was so overwhelming that Iruka felt vaguely claustrophobic, surrounded by the thick alpha scent steeped into Hatake’s blanket. He wanted to get this over with and forget about it, the idea of the scent following him to his own room was  _ horrific _ to even consider! 

Hatake stepped forward and Iruka couldn’t help himself. He curled up even more tightly, hating the anticipation. Couldn’t he just get it over with? Iruka wanted to scream. Another step, another flinch, and then Hatake started to  _ growl, _ a low rumble that filled the air and Iruka felt his heart stutter in absolute terror. The alpha was going to  _ kill him, _ he was feral, he was going to destroy Iruka’s only  _ real _ pajamas, and he’d have to sleep in his old t-shirts after this and they weren’t warm enough for winter weather!

Belatedly, Iruka realized that his fears had managed to run into the realm of ridiculous precisely because Hatake wasn’t doing anything. He wasn’t even growling anymore, just standing there, three steps into the room, his presence so  _ forceful _ that it made Iruka feel like he was choking. 

“If the smell is too strong you don’t have to use the blanket,” Hatake said. “I don’t always use it. It’s soft, so you can sleep on top of it if you prefer. Get some rest. See you in the morning,” and then the  _ door to the bedroom slid closed. _ For several minutes Iruka lay frozen in the cocoon of blankets, unable to move, convinced Hatake had simply concealed his presence and was waiting to strike once Iruka let his guard down. As the minutes ticked by, Iruka began to wonder if maybe Hatake really had left the room for the night. Right as he was seriously considering the possibility, he heard the heavier wooden doors on the outer side of the main room slide open and closed. 

They didn’t open again for the ten minutes Iruka spent breathing and counting the seconds. Eventually, Iruka uncurled, poking his now very disheveled head out of the blanket. Now that he wasn’t fearing for his life quite so much, he noticed that the heavy alpha scent that saturated the bed and its linens didn’t smell terrible. In fact, Iruka noted with some surprise, it smelled… nice. Until he remembered who the scent belonged to, which had him pulling his nose away from the blankets rather quickly, reminding himself that no matter  _ how _ nice Hatake smelled, he was still a mindless killer.

He waited for probably another hour, fully expecting Hatake to return at any moment. As the second hour began, Iruka started to think that perhaps Hatake had really meant it when he’d said  _ see you in the morning. _

But that didn’t make sense! The whole purpose of this placement was to calm the raging beast inside Hatake. How was he supposed to do that if the man wasn’t going to “do his duty” and sleep with Iruka? Not that he was upset, necessarily, but he didn’t like the way Hatake’s absence dragged out the anticipation. Finally, Iruka decided he was too tired to care anymore. So he curled up under the alpha’s (actually rather nice-smelling, once you got used to the intensity) blanket and dropped off to sleep. 

* * *

The next morning Iruka awoke to the bright streams of sunlight through waxed paper screens. He squinted as he sat up, grimacing as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. The room around him smelled strongly of  _ alpha, _ and for several seconds Iruka couldn’t remember why. Then it all came rushing back - he’d been so nervous that he’d laid in the alpha’s bed to wait, and… where was Hatake, anyway? Iruka clutched at the blanket, looking around the room. The first thing he noted was that it was both smaller and less furnished than his own room. The heater had been on, at least, so the room wasn't too cold. The blanket and mattress were both old and well worn, soft with age and numerous washings. 

There were a few things of interest scattered about the room. Most notably, Iruka couldn't tear his eyes away from the bright orange book that lay beside the bed, the cover emblazoned with the title  _ Icha-Icha Paradise _ and featuring an illustration of two lovers in an  _ extremely _ suggestive pose. He picked up the book carefully, mostly curious to see what sort of reading material was enjoyed by the alpha whose room he’d commandeered. He skimmed the first two pages, which introduced Kae, an innocent young omega girl who had feelings for her handsome and powerful alpha co-worker at the office, Sasaki-san. 

Iruka snorted a little, shutting the book. It seemed like a trashy romance novel. He wouldn’t have expected someone like Hatake to be into those sorts of books. He hadn’t expected much of anything, really, Iruka mused. Except violence. But Hatake had been civil. Not just civil, Iruka told himself as he pushed the blanket back to crawl out of bed, Hatake had been _ kind. _ It was unexpected and left Iruka feeling off-balance, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Cautiously, he slid the door to the room open. 

Hatake was seated at the kotatsu, a cup of tea in hand, though his face was still hidden behind his mask. He was sitting where Iruka had sat the night before, so he could watch the door to his room. The room where Iruka had been sleeping. 

Was it still creepy if someone was watching the room where you slept instead of watching you sleep? It felt sort of creepy. “Good morning,” Iruka said awkwardly, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “Did you sleep well?”

Hatake smiled back, or Iruka thought he did, his eye crinkling in a friendly sort of way. “Good morning. I slept quite well. And you?” 

Iruka felt his face heating. “Oh. Uh. Yes, I slept well, too.” Before he could stop himself, he added, “Your bed is very comfortable.” 

Hatake’s eyebrow twitched in surprise, but otherwise he didn’t react to the reminder that Iruka had slept in his room. “Good.”

“I’m going to brush my teeth,” Iruka stuttered, half waiting for the alpha to object. When he didn't, Iruka took it as tacit permission and headed to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and combed out his tangled hair before tying it back again. That done, he moved back down the hall, dropping his slippers and shuffling through the main room to his  _ own _ room this time, not sure what he should wear. After some consideration he put on some comfortable but decent pants, a t-shirt, and tugged a warm sweater on before returning to the main room where Hatake still sat at the kotatsu, his eye appraising him as he stepped back out of his bedroom. 

“Uh,” Iruka said, because he wasn’t sure what to do next.

Fortunately, Hatake didn’t seem nearly as off-balance. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

Iruka hadn’t thought he was hungry until he was asked, but as soon as he thought about it he realized he was  _ starving. _ “Yes, very,” he confessed.

“Good,” Hatake said, setting down his cup of tea and rising to his feet in a fluid motion. “I made breakfast.”

Iruka nodded slowly. “Can I help?” 

Hatake shot him another one of those eye smiles. “Of course, it's just in the kitchen.”

Iruka nodded, following him as he tucked his feet back into slippers at the doorway of the tatami room. They moved into the kitchen, where it looked like Hatake had made miso soup, fish, rice, and set out a few pickles. He handed Iruka the fish and pickles, grabbing the pot of rice himself. The food had been covered to keep it mostly warm, but Hatake flicked the stove back on to reheat the miso soup.

“I’ll come back for that,” he said, indicating the pot of miso before heading back down the hall to the dining room.

It didn’t take long to arrange the food and dishes. Hatake sat in the same place he had the night before, and after a moment’s hesitation, Iruka sat down where Hatake had been watching the door to the room where Iruka had slept. As before, the food was delicious, and Iruka almost forgot to be nervous as he enjoyed the dishes prepared by  _ his husband. _

He paused, bite halfway to his mouth. “Oh.”

Hatake lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?” he repeated. “What?” 

“I just thought,” Iruka felt his face heating, “it doesn’t seem fair that you cooked both the meals so far.” He finished his bite of rice, washing it down with a sip of miso soup. “What am I supposed to do?”

Hatake shrugged one shoulder, his eye fixed on Iruka. He set his chopsticks down on the chopstick rest, propping his chin on one palm as he leaned on the tabletop. “You have a job too, don’t you? I won’t be able to cook when I’m on missions, but I don’t mind cooking when I’m off duty.” 

Iruka blinked hard, shovelling two more bites of rice into his mouth as he considered Hatake’s words. After another gulp of miso soup, Iruka asked, “You don’t mind?” 

Hatake tilted his head slightly, considering Iruka. “Why would I mind?” 

_ Most alphas see an omega working as a statement about their ability to provide, _ Iruka thought glumly. All he said was, “Some people think it’s unseemly.” 

Hatake blinked slowly. “Do  _ you _ think it’s unseemly? Do you not like working?” 

Iruka shook his head vehemently. “No, no, I  _ love _ working - I even thought about applying to the teacher’s assistant program at the Academy, before-”  _ Before I was forced to marry you,  _ he had almost said, cutting himself off at the last moment, realizing that what he was about to say sounded remarkably like an accusation. 

“Why don’t you?” Hatake asked. “You have excellent chakra control and you trained with the honeypot squads for a year after graduation, didn’t you? The Academy seems like a good fit. You could probably teach there, not just assist, if that’s what you want to do.” 

Iruka blinked twice, too stunned to answer him right away. How did Hatake  _ know _ that about him? But he was slightly mistaken, on one count. “I never actually graduated from the Academy,” he confessed, “I presented two weeks before graduation. They didn’t let me take the exam.” 

Hatake’s eye narrowed slightly. “Academy instructors typically require a Chunin rank at minimum,” he said. “So you’ll need to take the graduation exam  _ and _ the Chunin exams before you begin teaching at the Academy.” 

Iruka nodded slowly. “Most honeypots don’t advance beyond Genin rank,” he said. “You only need to be a Genin to be a teacher’s assistant.” But now that Hatake had put the idea in his head… Iruka liked the idea of being a homeroom teacher in his own right. “It might be nice to have my own class, though.”

“Mm,” Hatake responded, shifting his chin to his other hand as he continued studying Iruka. “Not many chances for active combat training in honeypot squads. That makes it hard to pass the Chunin exams. Not impossible, though. Your friend Kamizuki did it.” 

Iruka nodded slowly, still not sure  _ how _ Hatake knew all this, he never really thought that his friends would become the subject of village gossip. “Izumo? Yeah, he trained with Kotetsu,” Iruka frowned. “It was really hard for him to find chances to train between long-term assignments, though.” 

“He  _ also  _ graduated from the Academy before he entered the honeypot squads,” Hatake noted. “So that’s your first hurdle. Graduation.” 

Iruka nodded slowly, picking up his bowl of miso soup and sipping absently. “You don’t mind, then?” he asked. “If I keep working in the records room? Or at the preschool?”

Hatake shrugged. “Do you want to be an Academy instructor or keep working at the preschool? You’ll need to make time for training if you want to apply to the Academy program.”

Iruka considered the question. He loved working at the preschool, but he’d always wanted to work with older kids. The Academy would give him that option, whereas the preschool didn’t leave much room for additional career development. “I’d like to apply to the Academy,” Iruka decided.

Hatake nodded. “I’ll see about getting you a tutor, then.” 

Iruka blinked. “A… tutor?” 

Hatake lifted his visible eyebrow quizzically. “Do you think you could pass the Academy’s written exam today? The practical exam?” 

Iruka felt his face heat. “Well, no, but-” he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, so he dropped them to his lap, tangling his fingers together. “Tutors are expensive, I thought I might just self-study.” 

“You’ll need to do that, too,” Hatake agreed. “But having an experienced teacher to offer guidance is an important part of learning.”

Iruka stared at the tabletop, his face burning. He knew that, he did! But Hatake had already bought him a bed, furnishings, fed him, and offered to buy more things for him… how could Iruka ask him for even  _ more? _ “Thank you,” he said softly. “I…never expected to graduate, let alone take the Chunin exams.” 

“You’re clever and resilient,” Hatake said, as if he were quite accustomed to dropping casual compliments. “Don’t underestimate yourself just because other people do.”

Iruka lifted his eyes to stare at Hatake, who stared back at him with a serious look in his lone eye. “Thank you,” Iruka said again, because what else could he say? 

Hatake nodded once. “Will you maintain your usual schedule with the records room? Afternoons from three to seven?”

Iruka blinked. “You know my work schedule?” 

Hatake shrugged one shoulder, setting his chopsticks down. Iruka blinked in surprise. He hadn’t seen the man pick them up again. His eyes drifted to Hatake’s bowl. The rice had been half-full when they began this conversation. Now it was empty. Iruka turned his eyes back to Hatake’s face. His mask seemed as though it hadn’t moved an inch. Iruka decided it was easier not to think about how damn fast the Jonin had to have been moving to eat without Iruka noticing. 

When it became clear the shrug  _ was _ Hatake’s answer, Iruka sighed. “I’d like to keep my schedule,” he admitted, “But I don’t know if the Hokage will approve.” 

“I already asked him,” Hatake said. “I signed the work permission forms for the records room and the preschool, just in case you wanted to keep working.” 

In the past, Iruka had signed his own forms as the only member of the Umino household. Now he was part of the Hatake household, and permission for an omega to work had to be granted by the head of the household - In other words, Hatake. He was touched the man had gone to that effort, but also confused about  _ when _ such a thing could have happened. “I thought you couldn’t sign those forms until after we were officially mated,” he said, frowning in confusion. 

“That’s correct,” Hatake said, staring back at Iruka, a hint of a wrinkle on his brow.

“But we just got married yesterday,” Iruka clarified. 

“Yes,” Hatake said, now sounding only slightly less confused than Iruka.

“When did you submit the paperwork?” Iruka finally asked, as clearly Hatake needed some prompting. 

“This morning,” Hatake said slowly, as if this should be obvious.

Iruka blinked. “But you cooked.”

“Yes,” Hatake said, glancing between Iruka and the food, a growing bewilderment in his tone. “After I got back.” 

“The preschool doesn’t open to the public until eight,” Iruka protested. It was barely nine, and they’d been talking for a good twenty minutes by now! 

“The office staff are there by six-thirty,” Hatake responded. “They’re the ones who need the paperwork on file. I gave it to them.”

“And the records room?”

Hatake gave Iruka a look that smacked of disappointment. “You  _ know _ they have staff there 24 hours a day. I got the paperwork there, filled out both, handed in the records room form right then and went to the preschool with the other.” 

“Before breakfast,” Iruka concluded. 

“Before breakfast,” Hatake confirmed.

At least that explained why Hatake was dressed in his full Jonin uniform before even eating breakfast. Though it didn't explain how he’d gotten it from his room without waking Iruka. Or why he’d been up so early! “I thought you said you slept well!” Iruka said.

“I did,” Hatake replied, back to sounding confused, with a hint of nervousness, his visible eye fixed on Iruka like he wasn’t sure what response to expect. 

“But you were filling out paperwork just after sunrise!” Iruka protested. 

“Yes, it was a refreshing change of pace,” the Jonin said carefully, still watching Iruka carefully as he continued speaking. “Usually I’m training at that time, so between yesterday and today I have a lot more energy to spare.”

Iruka set his bowl of miso soup down hard, scowling at Hatake. “But you said you slept well,” he said again. He hated getting up early. He did, when he had to, but he certainly didn’t feel well rested after that sort of ordeal. How could Hatake consider rising before the sun  _ well rested? _

Hatake looked absolutely befuddled by Iruka’s statement. “I did sleep well. I just didn’t sleep for very long.”

Now Iruka felt like a lazy asshole, sleeping  _ in Hatake’s own bed _ while the man had been off training and filling out paperwork and cooking breakfast. “Well you should have specified that!” Iruka snapped, recognizing that he was starting to sound a little unreasonable. 

“That’s my typical schedule,” Hatake said faintly. “So now you know? Or do I still need to specify in future conversations?” 

Iruka resisted the urge to pound his head on the table. “You’re right, if that’s your typical schedule it doesn’t make sense to explain every time,” he grumbled. “I usually sleep in when I can.” 

Hatake nodded. “Enjoy it while you can,” he said, which sounded  _ extraordinarily ominous _ and sent Iruka’s heart  _ plunging _ into his stomach as his guys seemed to twist themselves in knots. 

“What? Why?” Iruka asked, his mind already leaping to a dozen different scenarios. Would Hatake demand morning sex? Did he expect Iruka to cook breakfast from now on? Was he going to demand Iruka be awake to send him off to training with a kiss on the cheek? Would he-

“If you want to take the Chunin exams you’ll need intensive training. If your records room shift is in the afternoon, that means you should get an early start to your day,” Hatake answered, his sharp gaze roving over Iruka with what seemed to be concern. “Once we find you a tutor and combat instructor you’ll be having early mornings, too.” 

...that made more sense than any of Iruka’s wild theories, and he felt rather stupid for jumping to conclusions like that. “Oh.”

“Are you still hungry?” Hatake asked, gesturing to the remaining rice and miso soup. 

“Oh, no, this was plenty,” Iruka replied. “I’m completely satisfied, thank you for the meal.”

The tip of Hatake’s ear reddened a little, his gaze dropping from Iruka’s face as he said, “Ah, good.”

“I’ll wash up,” Iruka said, grabbing his empty bowl and reaching over for Hatake’s, too. 

“I’ll help,” Hatake said, picking up the empty fish plate and stacking the pickle dish on top of it.

It took two trips to bring the breakfast dishes back to the kitchen, where Iruka reprised his dishwasher role from the night before while Hatake dried and put away the dishes once they were clean. When that was done, Iruka wasn’t sure what was next - it was barely nine thirty, and he wasn’t sure if he even had work scheduled for today. 

“Do I need to tell the preschool I don’t want to keep working for them?” Iruka asked, watching Hatake fill a kettle with water and set it on the stove. 

“They said to come in and fill out your paperwork, and they would decide your new schedule,” Hatake answered. “If you don’t go, I don’t think they’ll schedule you.”

“I should at least thank them,” Iruka said faintly. “I didn’t have time to buy a farewell gift before the wedding.” Not that he’d have been able to afford much of a farewell gift on his meager salary, anyway. 

“We could go to the market and find something nice,” Hatake suggested. 

Iruka blinked in surprise. “We?” he repeated. He couldn’t imagine that someone who was the  _ master of a thousand jutsu _ would be especially interested in a shopping excursion. 

Hatake leaned back against the counter, resting his weight on his elbows, stretching out long, lean legs.  _ Not _ that Iruka had any particular reason to notice this feature, though the languid pose did accentuate Hatake’s physique nicely. It took more effort than he anticipated not to stare at the Jonin’s… assets. When Iruka finally dragged his gaze back to Hatake’s face (he was  _ not _ blushing, his heart rate had simply elevated because he was  _ nervous, _ clearly), the Jonin was staring back at him with one dark half-lidded eye. Which was fine, Iruka didn’t  _ care _ if Hatake noticed him noticing him, except he  _ did _ care because what if Hatake saw that as an invitation? The man didn’t seem nearly as volatile as Iruka had been led to believe, but he still didn’t want to give the alpha any  _ ideas. _

“I’ve been taken off active duty for a week of matrimonial leave,” Hatake explained, his voice as neutral as it would be if he were discussing the weather. Not pointing out that  _ usually _ during matrimonial leave, an alpha-omega pair would rarely leave the bedroom, much less the  _ house. _ And Kakashi had already been out in the village the morning after his wedding! 

Iruka felt his face heat with sudden embarrassment. He liked to think he didn’t care what people thought of him, but oh! The rumors that would fly. Iruka clearly wasn’t interesting enough to keep Hatake in the bedroom. His eyes narrowed, studying the Jonin in sudden suspicion. Was  _ that _ why he hadn’t preyed on Iruka the night before? Was Iruka not Hatake’s … type? Then why lie about liking Iruka’s scent (assuming the Hokage had been telling the truth about that detail)?

“Within that time frame, we should have no problem buying a farewell gift for your former co-workers, getting your schedule arranged with the records room, finding you a tutor, and learning when the next Academy graduation exam will be held,” Hatake said, ticking off each activity on a long, slender finger as he spoke. His hands, clad in fingerless gloves, seemed remarkably dextrous. Then again, as a ninjutsu master, Hatake likely used hand seals frequently. So perhaps the dexterity wasn’t such a surprise. 

Iruka realized he’d been staring at Hatake’s long fingers for several seconds longer than was probably appropriate, and tore his gaze away. Hatake was watching him again, cool interest in his gaze. Was he waiting for Iruka to respond? “Sounds nice,” Iruka said, scrambling for a new topic. “What will we do for lunch?” 

“We could eat here,” Hatake glanced at the kettle, which was just starting to show the first curl of steam escaping its spout. “Or go out to eat.” 

Iruka pondered their options. “Let’s eat out,” he suggested. The Hatake residence was lovely, but Iruka was used to being around lots of people - chatting with parents as they dropped off their young pups at the preschool, sharing inside jokes with the other clerks in Hokage Tower, haggling over groceries in the market after his shift in the records room… And to be perfectly honest, Hatake seemed like a quiet sort of person, and while he wasn’t as cruel or aggressive as Iruka had initially feared, he wasn’t exactly an easygoing conversationalist. 

Hatake grunted in agreement, plucking the kettle from the stove as the water inside began to truly boil. He poured the hot water into the teapot, settling the lid on it and carrying it out of the kitchen, apparently heading back to the main room. 

Really, would it have killed him to say as much? Iruka rolled his eyes a little, but dutifully followed the alpha back to the kotatsu. Hatake poured them both new cups of tea, settling back down in his spot from breakfast. 

“I was thinking of buying some nice sweets from the new bakery over by Yamanaka Flowers,” Iruka said, glancing down at his teacup, inhaling the familiar scent of brown rice and green tea. “For my coworkers at the preschool,” he added.

Hatake said nothing, and Iruka looked up to see he was still  _ watching, _ a soft look in his eye that Iruka couldn’t quite identify as any particular emotion. 

“What kind of sweets do you like?” Iruka asked, almost desperately. Did Hatake only know how to talk about training and daily routines?

“I don’t particularly like sweet foods,” Hatake answered, sounding almost embarrassed. “What about you?”

Iruka scrubbed at the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Ah, anything, really…” He glanced back down at his tea, taking a sip. It was still quite hot. When he glanced back up, Hatake was setting his own teacup back down, apparently having taken a sip himself. 

“Hm,” Hatake said. “What about lunch?”

“I… haven’t been to Ichiraku in awhile,” Iruka commented. “It would be nice to have some ramen.”

Hatake nodded. “Alright,” he said. “So we’ll stop by the new bakery, drop off the gift at the preschool, get ramen and then see about getting your records room shift schedule at Hokage Tower.” 

Iruka couldn’t quite hide the grin that was tugging at his lips as he thought about their plans for the day. It was going to be busy, and surprisingly, he was actually looking forward to spending more time with Hatake. Eyeing the Jonin thoughtfully, Iruka reflected that perhaps this marriage wasn’t going to be quite as terrible as he’d expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like every time we go to Iruka POV the chapter gets so long!!! who knew Iruka was so ... talkative ...   
> okay, so perhaps this should have been anticipated >.>  
> anyway! next chapter is back to Kakashi POV! I'm very excited to see them attempting some actual human conversation as the day continues :) Thanks so much to everyone for your enthusiastic comments, it means so much to me!


	6. To The Preschool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a bit of confusion, Kakashi and Iruka finally make their way to the preschool. If only Kakashi were better with kids...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter!

Kakashi sat at the kotatsu while Iruka sipped his tea, the two of them remaining in silence, the tension in the room growing more pronounced as seconds stretched into minutes. Finally, the omega set down his teacup and glanced at Kakashi from under thick lashes. “I should get my coin purse,” he said, shifting as if to stand.

“It’s fine, I’ll pay,” Kakashi said.

Iruka made a small face, but slumped down at the table again. Kakashi tried surreptitiously scenting the air to see if he was still afraid, but either Iruka had reapplied his scent-blockers or he had regained enough chakra control to keep his scent from broadcasting his emotions. He seemed disappointed, though, and Kakashi tried to figure out how he’d managed to disappoint Iruka so quickly. 

“Or you could use your own earnings,” Kakashi guessed, as that was the only thing he could think of that might have bothered Iruka. 

“Oh, I have your permission to spend my own money, do I?” Iruka said unkindly, his eyes flashing dangerously as he grabbed his teacup and scowled down at it before pouring himself a new cup of tea.

Kakashi didn’t think Iruka actually needed permission for something like that, but it did remind him that he’d need to add Iruka to his accounts so he could withdraw additional funds if he needed anything. “Do you need my permission for that?” Kakashi asked. “I rather assumed you could make those decisions yourself.”

Iruka snorted, taking a sip of tea and setting the cup down with an audible  _ thunk _ . “It sure didn’t seem like you thought that, considering the way you said it.”

Now Kakashi was feeling lost  _ and _ threatened. Why was Iruka angry? He hadn’t realized his words could be taken in such a way, but apparently Iruka felt threatened by his response! He was coming to realize that the problem with only ever  _ watching _ Iruka and never actually interacting with him was that he’d left himself completely unprepared for Iruka’s quick temper and sharp tongue. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like a demand,” Kakashi said, “I just… wanted to offer to pay, if you’ll let me.”

Iruka’s stiff posture softened slightly. “Oh, ” he said, his tone less tense. “Well. That’s fine, then.” 

In the future, Kakashi decided he would try to be much more specific about whether he was making an offer, suggestion, request, or demand. Not that he was planning on demanding much from Iruka, but it wouldn’t do for him to get confused. “Anything else you’d like to do while we’re out?” Kakashi asked.

Iruka scowled a little,  _ again. _ “I’m fine with the current plan,” he said. 

Okay. But was he really fine with it? Kakashi was having a hard time figuring that out, since Iruka was still frowning like something had upset him. But he had to accept Iruka’s word for it, he had no other way of knowing his opinion besides asking. 

“When do you want to go?” Kakashi asked.

In response, Iruka drained his cup and set it down. “I’m ready now,” he said. 

Kakashi nodded slowly. “Right. Let’s visit that bakery, then.”

Iruka rose in a smooth motion, tugging at his clothes. They were casual, in a dark blue that mimicked the shade of the records room uniforms, but the fabric seemed a bit loose, possibly softer than the usual uniform fabric. “Okay,” he said, lifting a hand up to pat at his hair.

Kakashi rose as well, shuffling over to the heater and turning it off. Iruka waited by the door, tugging on his sandals. Joining him a moment later, Kakashi tugged on his own shoes and they walked down the short path to the front gate. Kakashi let Iruka leave first before he closed the gate, patting the small seal on the door and feeding it a bit of chakra to keep the grounds secure while they were out. When he turned back around to leave, he saw Iruka eyeing the seal with some interest. 

“It’s for security,” Kakashi explained.

Iruka nodded. “I’ve seen similar seals around Hokage Tower,” he said.

“It’s a fairly traditional security system,” Kakashi told him. “I probably have a few books about defensive architectural seals - the development and uses of various wards, that is.” 

Iruka nodded thoughtfully. “I’d like to read them, sometime. If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Kakashi said quickly. “If you’re interested, you’re welcome to read anything you’d like.”

Iruka raised one eyebrow. “I didn’t see that many books in your house,” he said. “Where do you keep them?”

“Ah,” Kakashi realized he was getting ahead of himself again. “The Hatake family is an old clan, so we have a private library that’s separate from the house itself.” He glanced back at the Hatake residence, which was only a minute’s walk away at this point. “I can show you, when we get back.”

Iruka smiled, the soft expression making Kakashi’s heart flutter. “I’d like that,” he said.

Kakashi nodded, not trusting his voice as he stared at the warm smile breaking across Iruka’s face. Good. Okay. He seemed to be in a better mood than earlier, too. So hopefully Kakashi wouldn’t fuck things up again so soon. 

The two of them made their way to the market without much trouble. Iruka made a beeline for the new bakery, not pausing to greet anyone as he went. This was a bit surprising to Kakashi, since he knew that Iruka often spent time chatting with people on his usual shopping trips. He wasn’t going to question it, though, dutifully following Iruka into the bakery. The smell of butter, sugar, and yeast hit his nose. It wasn’t a bad smell, necessarily, it just wasn’t really Kakashi’s favorite thing. Bread was okay, he supposed, but he was really more a fan of rice, personally. 

Iruka, on the other hand, seemed much more interested in the options available to them, puttering around the bakery looking at the different sweets and treats before finally approaching the counter. He spoke with the owner for a while before finally selecting some sweets and having them packed up in a box. Kakashi noticed the owner shooting him suspicious glances every so often, and resisted the urge to sigh. Even among the civilians, he was something of a notorious figure, and the stares were just a part of being out and visible to the general population. He still didn’t really  _ like _ the way people watched him, it made the hair on his arms stand up and tended to put him on alert. Being watched was a great way to kickstart a shinobi’s alert instincts, and Kakashi had dealt with enough bullshit in his life to know that even being in the village didn’t necessarily guarantee safety. But he couldn’t exactly  _ tell _ people to stop staring - he knew why they stared, and he couldn’t exactly make things better by demanding they  _ stop. _ But it was still frustrating. 

Once Iruka had finished the transaction, he glanced back over his shoulder at Kakashi and smiled. “Do you want to get anything for dinner?” he asked. 

Kakashi considered the question. Did Iruka prefer bread to rice? He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to change things up a little. “Nothing stands out to me,” he said, glancing around at the various snack breads, loaves, and cakes. “Do you want anything else?”

Iruka frowned thoughtfully before plucking up a single snack bread and setting it on top of the box of small tarts he’d bought for his coworkers. “I’ll take one of these, too,” he said.

The owner nodded, ringing up Iruka’s box of sweets and the single snack bread. After Iruka paid, he picked up the box and turned to Kakashi with another smile. It warmed Kakashi from his heart all the way to his toes. He was never going to get used to that, to being  _ smiled at _ instead of  _ stared at. _ “Shall we go to the preschool?” Iruka asked.

Kakashi nodded. 

“Thank you for the wonderful treats! I’m sure we’ll be back again,” Iruka said, bowing to the owner as he left. Kakashi bobbed his head in a short bow as well before trailing after Iruka, who was heading down the street in the direction of the preschool.

The two of them made their way without much trouble, and Iruka glanced at Kakashi with a nervous smile before he made his way into the preschool.

“Iruka-sensei!” came a small chorus of cheers, several children rushing over in excitement.

“Iruka-sensei, what’s that!”   


“Iruka-sensei, look at my picture!”   


“Iruka-sensei, I have a new shirt!”   
  
“Who’s  _ that, _ Iruka-sensei?” One of the knee-high humans was pointing at Kakashi, a curious expression on his face. 

“Kotaro-kun, don’t be rude,” Iruka chided, turning and handing Kakashi the box of tarts, which Kakashi accepted wordlessly. Iruka then crouched down, his expression softening in a way that made Kakashi wish momentarily that  _ he _ was an adorable preschool-aged child, too. “This is Hatake-san, my new husband.”

Kotaro glanced at Kakashi, his eyes narrowing. “Why did he come?” he asked. “Is he gonna stay for your lesson, too?”

Iruka laughed at that, patting Kotaro on the head before glancing up at Kakashi with an expression that he couldn’t quite place. “No, he’s not here for a lesson,” Iruka answered. “We’re going to go visit Natsume-sensei, okay?”

“Okay,” Kotaro agreed hesitantly, shooting another confused look in Kakashi’s direction. “But after that, come play with me, okay?”

Iruka laughed again, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I think you should try playing with Sae-chan instead,” he suggested. “She looks like she’s making something delicious.” He indicated a small girl who was throwing into a small pot what looked to be wooden toys carved into various shapes and painted to resemble different foods. 

Kotaro gave Kakashi one more suspicious look before he turned and wandered over to where the girl was now stirring together an ‘egg’, a ‘rice ball’, a ‘tomato’, and a ‘cucumber’ in her pot. “What are you making?” the boy asked in a loud voice.

“Soup,” Sae replied. “Wanna taste?” she held out the spoon to Kotaro, who pretended to sip. 

“I think it needs grapes,” the boy said, picking up the wooden grapes and adding them to the ‘soup’.

Kakashi glanced at Iruka, who was smiling fondly at the two children. A moment later, Iruka turned back to Kakashi, his expression shuttering as he did so. It made his heart ache to think that Iruka didn’t feel comfortable sharing the same level of emotion with him as he did with these children. Maybe if he was patient, one day Iruka would feel safe sharing his heartfelt emotions with Kakashi, too. 

“Let’s go see Natsume-sensei, now,” Iruka suggested, reaching out to take the box of tarts back.

Kakashi handed it to him, nodding. 

Iruka turned, wandering across the yard, greeting small children as he went. Kakashi expected the tiny humans to give him a wide berth, much as he was avoided in the village, but surprisingly, he felt a soft tug at his pant leg. When he glanced down, there was a small girl with unruly black hair gazing up at him. “Are you a ninja?” she asked, eyes wide.

“I am,” Kakashi said, not sure how to talk to children and settling for short and neutral answers. 

“Do you have a sword?” the girl asked then. “Can I see it?”

“I don’t have a sword,” Kakashi answered only the first question, as it implied the answer to the second question. He wanted to walk away, but the kid was still holding onto his pant leg and he didn’t want to knock the poor thing over, the child was barely up to his knee and he didn’t feel right about just yanking away from her. 

“Can you punch through a wall?” the girl asked, and Kakashi noticed with some consternation that  _ another _ kid had appeared on his other side, patting his leg experimentally. 

Slowly, Kakashi shuffled his feet forward, feeling panic begin to rise in his chest as Iruka kept moving, apparently not having noticed that Kakashi had been waylaid by tiny humans. The kids continued holding onto his legs, the girl wrapping her arms around his leg and allowing him to drag her a little as he tried to follow Iruka without knocking the kids over. 

“My dad is a ninja too,” a third kid announced, standing in front of Kakashi and lifting his chin. “I bet he could beat you.”

Kakashi was fairly certain that wasn’t true, but he didn’t feel like it was his place to go arguing with a  _ literal child _ about rank and abilities. “I’m sure he could,” Kakashi tried agreeing, still shuffling his feet as two children clung to his legs. The third kid seemed satisfied with his answer, but not so satisfied as to leave him alone. In fact, as Kakashi continued scooting his feet, dragging along small knee-high children, even more of them were approaching him. 

“Hello, my name is Haru!” one of the kids declared in a confident tone. 

“Why are you hiding your eye?” another child asked. There were now  _ two _ children hanging off Kakashi’s right leg and he was half certain that one of them was attempting to  _ climb _ his leg like a tree. Their grasping hands tugged at his clothes and he didn’t know how to respond.

“Uh, kids? Let go?” he said, feeling the nerves in his tone. “I need to… follow Iruka-sensei…” 

Several cries of disbelief followed this statement, and the crowd of them seemed possibly more interested than before. “Are you a new teacher?” “Are you learning from Iruka-sensei?” “Are you going to teach us ninja lessons?” 

And still they  _ wouldn’t let go. _ Kakashi resisted the urge to shake them off, not wanting to risk a body flicker technique with so many of them around. “I’m just visiting,” Kakashi said, “I just came here with  _ Iruka-sensei,” _ he added, raising his voice a little. 

Finally,  _ finally,  _ his new mate turned around, eyes widening before a laugh burst from his lips. He clearly hadn’t meant to laugh, as he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. Nonetheless, Kakashi enjoyed the expression on Iruka’s face, the mirth dancing in his eyes as he marched back towards where Kakashi was being swarmed. “Haru! Mina!” He called, and Kakashi noticed two of the kids stiffen in recognition. “Naoki, Yuki, Kana,” Iruka continued, “and Arisa,” he finished. “Come here.”

The kids released Kakashi’s legs and swarmed Iruka, who crouched down and was saying something to the kids, a serious expression on his face. A moment later, he stood again and said, “Now, go on!” and the entire crowd of children dispersed.

Kakashi found himself staring at Iruka in befuddled amazement. “How did you…?”

Iruka laughed again, this time sparing a soft, warm smile for Kakashi. “You just have to know how to talk to them,” he said softly. “They’re good kids.”

Kakashi nodded, not sure he’d ever be able to handle kids as effortlessly as Iruka. “Thanks for rescuing me,” he said weakly, “I didn’t want to knock them down, so it was hard to move…”

Iruka smiled at him again, a soft look in his gaze that made Kakashi’s heart perform an acrobatic stunt in his chest. Then, he reached out and  _ patted Kakashi’s arm, _ sending his entire brain into panic mode. Iruka touched him! He’d touched Kakashi  _ willingly _ , not just because he was handing him a dish to dry, but because he’d  _ chosen _ to reach out and touch him! He felt his breath catch in his throat and realized he’d stopped breathing for a moment.

“That’s very sweet,” Iruka said, “But they’re not that fragile. You can tell them to stop or let go, and hold a hand or two if they won’t stop grabbing on - you don’t have to use force to physically move them back.”

Kakashi didn’t have the heart to tell Iruka he’d been a shinobi for so long he’d forgotten what childhood was like - hell, he wasn’t certain he’d ever really  _ had _ a childhood - and while his father may have once been the type to hold a child’s hand in order to pry their grip away from his uniform, those memories were long gone by now and he had no other experiences to rely on when it came to children. “I see,” was all he actually said, because he felt that saying “I don’t remember my father ever holding my hand” might be too serious of a conversation starter to be introduced in the middle of a preschool.

Iruka smiled again. “Now let’s get inside before any more of them get funny ideas” Iruka suggested, marching for the office with a confident stride. 

Kakashi followed behind, keeping an eye peeled for any other kids so he could avoid a repeat performance - for all of Iruka’s confidence, Kakashi wasn’t sure he trusted his own rusty hand-holding skills to be up to the task of child relocation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out writing Kakashi fumbling his way through interactions with children is my new favorite thing ever. Preschool kids are so funny and cute and they have a logic all their own - I hope I was able to convey that effectively in this chapter, lol. 
> 
> Also worth noting: I decided to estimate approximately how many chapters I think it'll take to wrap this fic up (famous last words >.>), and added that to the chapter count. It's also entirely possible the fic will end up longer, though. I have a general outline, but sometimes things take longer to wrap up than I expect. I'm still aiming for 25 chapters, but if it gets longer than that, hopefully nobody will be too bothered by it.
> 
> Thanks again to all of the people leaving encouraging comments, it definitely keeps me motivated! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too! :D


	7. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka finds himself facing more criticism than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Content Warnings for this chapter

Iruka couldn’t help noticing how tense Hatake was as they walked towards the office. He hadn’t seemed afraid of the children, per se, just awkward. Iruka was beginning to think that this awkwardness was just a part of Hatake’s usual state of existence. Aside from the conversation about training, which he had seemed much more confident about, that is. A thought struck Iruka then - could it be that Hatake simply wasn’t  _ used to _ talking about things other than training? But surely the man went shopping on his own, why did he seem so awkward even in the market? It was confusing, and Iruka wasn’t sure what to make of the man. When the Sandaime had told him he would be forced into a marriage with an operative on the brink, Iruka had expected a ruthless killer, a selfish and cruel master who demanded everything and offered nothing. Instead, what he’d gotten was an alpha who seemed unfamiliar with even basic conversation cues, an air of gentleness, and an earnest desire to make sure Iruka could pursue his own dreams and passions. 

Maybe the real reason they’d given Iruka to Hatake was because the alpha was so absolutely useless at socialising that he would never manage to get a mate on his own? It made more sense than the theory Iruka had been operating on yesterday - Hatake didn’t seem unstable at all! He was kind, generous, helpful, good with kids… Iruka glanced over at Hatake, who was still moving anxiously, eye sweeping the area for approaching children. Well, maybe not  _ good _ with kids, but he certainly could be worse…

As if sensing Iruka’s thoughts, Hatake’s eye turned to him and Iruka couldn’t help but grin at the cautious way Hatake was moving through the yard like it was a minefield. “Don’t worry,” he assured him, “I won’t let the kids crawl all over you again.” 

Hatake’s stiff posture seemed to loosen ever so slightly, the tip of his ear pinking. “Ah,” he said, his gaze darting around the room once more before returning to Iruka, “thanks.”

They made their way to the office without further incident. Natsume-sensei, the head teacher, was just finishing her preparations when Iruka walked in. 

“Ah, Iruka,” she said, “Hatake-san,” she added, bowing deeply in the direction of Iruka’s new husband. “How can I help you?”

“I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity to work with you for the last few years,” Iruka said softly, extending the box of tarts. “These are for you and the rest of the staff. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

Natsume-sensei glanced between Iruka and Hatake for a few seconds. “I don’t understand,” she said slowly. “Hatake-san brought in your employment paperwork this morning.” 

Iruka opened his mouth to explain, but before he could, Hatake cut in with a simple, “We’ve decided to pursue other options. Thank you for your understanding.”

Eyes widening, Natsume bobbed into another bow. “Of course, Hatake-san, I didn’t mean to question your decision,” she said quickly. 

Iruka wanted to tell Natsume-sensei not to worry about Hatake - he was really nice and an understanding person, after all. But he wasn’t sure if Hatake intentionally crafted a cold exterior around the people in the village. If he wanted to be seen that way, was it really Iruka’s right to mess that up? 

“Of course you didn’t,” Hatake replied with a vague reassurance. “Thank you for your time, Natsume-sensei.” He seemed less awkward, but Iruka could still see flashes of uncertainty in Hatake’s gaze as he spoke, and he had to fight back a grin. He was almost certain he was right, Hatake was so awkward that he’d never made civilian friends! Faintly, Iruka felt sorry for him. Even someone like Iruka, who was seen as a poorly behaved omega by most of the village, still had a nice group of friends - shinobi  _ and _ civilian - to spend time with. Did Hatake have  _ any _ friends at all? It was sad that Iruka genuinely found either a positive or negative answer would be equally believable.

“Thank you again,” Iruka said to Natsume-sensei, bowing as they turned to leave. As soon as Hatake exited, but before Iruka could follow him through the door, Natsume-sensei grabbed his arm, gripping it tightly. 

“What are you  _ doing, _ foolish boy!” she hissed in a low voice.

Iruka blinked in surprise. “What? I’m-”

Natsume-sensei gave him a look that could pickle cucumbers. “It’s the day after your wedding and you’re sending your alpha out on early morning errands? Have you  _ no shame?” _ she smacked Iruka on the back of the head, just hard enough that it actually smarted. Iruka flinched, trying to tug away. 

“It wasn’t _ my _ idea-” Iruka protested, but Natsume-sensei cut him off. 

“If you know what’s good for you you’ll take that alpha  _ back _ to his home and,” Natsume-sensei tugged Iruka closer, grabbing his throat with her other hand, her sharp nails digging into the side of his neck where a new mating bite should be, “do your duty.”

Iruka stared back at her in shock. “That’s none of your business!” he hissed, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from his neck. “Don’t be rude!”

“You can’t keep hiding from him forever,” Natsume-sensei said flatly. Her eyes, however, seemed more sad than angry. “Better to do what you must  _ now, _ before you drive him mad with desire.”

Iruka clenched his fists. “Alphas are not mindless beasts,” he hissed. “It’s not fair of you to say that about Hatake-san.” 

Natsume-sensei stared back at Iruka, the sadness now tainting her expression, not just her eyes. “That’s why they gave you to him, Iruka,” she said softly. “To tame the beast within. Make your choice soon, before he takes that chance to choose away from you.”

Iruka felt a shiver crawl down his spine. As far as he knew, Natsume-sensei was a beta. But her expression seemed to scream of personal tragedy. “I…” he struggled to find words, eventually realizing that he had none. “Thank you, Natsume-sensei,” he said hoarsely. “For everything.”

“Take care,” Natsume-sensei said, gently patting Iruka’s arm. “Think about what I said.”

How could he  _ not? _

* * *

Kakashi realized after taking two steps out of the office that the head teacher had pulled Iruka back into the room. Unwilling to interrupt a private farewell between the two of them, Kakashi settled for leaning against the far wall and watching the hallway to make sure he wasn’t about to be approached by another crowd of tiny humans. 

When Iruka reappeared less than a minute later, his face was drawn and the mirthful light had gone out of his eyes. For a split second Kakashi wanted to march back into the office and demand what the head teacher had said to Iruka to cause such a drastic change in his bearing. Instead, Kakashi stepped away from the wall and glanced down the hall meaningfully. “Ready?” he asked.

Iruka nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Yes,” he said softly. “Let’s go.”

When they walked out, the kids appeared to be mid-lesson, so Iruka didn’t need to run interference. Kakashi was glad it didn’t get complicated because Iruka seemed distracted, his posture more closed off, his gaze barely leaving the floor. 

Kakashi wished he hadn’t left Iruka alone with that damn head teacher. He wasn’t sure what she’d said, but clearly it was bothering Iruka, and it made his fingers itch for a kunai. He knew that wasn’t an appropriate response, though, so he focused on breathing and not thinking too hard about how he wished he could comfort Iruka, instead of just making him  _ more _ uncomfortable every time he stood too close. 

Kakashi turned and started heading in the direction of Ichiraku Ramen, already trying to think of how he could cheer up Iruka. He knew the ramen would be a good start, but was there anything else he could suggest to improve his husband’s mood? 

It took him a moment to realize Iruka had stopped walking, standing in the middle of the street. Kakashi walked back to him, wishing he had the nerve to reach out and touch him, to bring him some comfort. “Iruka?” he said, keeping his voice as soft and gentle as he could manage. 

Stiffening, Iruka lifted his eyes from the ground, meeting Kakashi’s gaze. His eyes seemed unfocused, his expression troubled. “Maybe we should go home,” he said softly. 

Kakashi felt his heart rate jump a little. He hadn’t bought any food to prepare, all he could offer Iruka would be some rice and miso soup. “If that’s what you want,” Kakashi said, “we can go back.”

“I don’t see how what  _ I _ want has any bearing on anything,” Iruka snapped, expression growing stormy. “It’s fine, let’s go back. Whatever.” he turned away from Kakashi, wrapping his arms around his torso, his scent control slipping as he did. 

_ Fear. Frustration. Loneliness. _ Kakashi felt the scents land like physical blows, and he nearly flinched at the first harsh reminder that Iruka wasn’t interested in him the way he was interested in Iruka. That Iruka didn’t  _ want _ his concern, his affection. He just wanted to make things right, but how could he do that when  _ he _ was the source of Iruka’s discomfort? He took a hesitant step closer, and Iruka seemed to wilt. Why wouldn’t the man just  _ tell _ Kakashi what he wanted?

“Iruka-san,” Kakashi said, adding a bit of force to his tone. “It  _ has bearing _ because I specifically asked you what  _ you _ wanted. If you want to go home, we’ll go home. If you want ramen, we’ll have ramen. If you’re not hungry, we’ll have lunch later.  _ What do you want?” _ The last bit came out a bit more forcefully than Kakashi had intended, and he instantly regretted the hint of a growl that had crawled into his tone as Iruka bodily flinched at the sound of his voice.

“I am hungry,” Iruka said slowly, still unwilling to turn to face Kakashi. 

“What do you want to eat?” Kakashi asked, trying to infuse his voice with all the nonthreatening softness he could conjure, uncertain if he’d succeeded. At least the growl in his voice was gone.

Iruka glanced at Kakashi, his face flushing slightly. “...Ramen,” he said miserably.

“Ichiraku?” Kakashi asked, not entirely dismissing the idea that Iruka might just want cup noodles. 

Iruka made a soft noise of agreement. “I haven’t eaten there for a while, I was looking forward to it,” he said in a half-whisper.

“I was looking forward to it, too,” Kakashi said. Not because he was all that excited about ramen, but because he wanted to see Iruka happy. Now, however, he wasn’t going to hold out for something as unlikely as happiness. He just hoped that eating ramen might help Iruka feel a little less miserable.

Iruka blinked in surprise. “You like Ichiraku Ramen too?” 

“It’s nice,” Kakashi said simply. “Very rich. But a nice meal for special occasions.” As soon as he saw Iruka’s expression close off again at the mention of  _ special occasions, _ Kakashi wanted to kick himself. Iruka used to eat out at Ichiraku Ramen at least once a week. Now he probably thought Kakashi was going to limit him to once a year or something! 

“I used to eat there often,” Iruka said wistfully, like he hadn’t been there in years, instead of having been there twice in the last three weeks. “Not just special occasions.”

“I can be persuaded,” Kakashi said quickly, not wanting Iruka to think he was at all attempting to tell him how often he should eat ramen. 

Iruka’s face colored, his expression darkening. “Oh?” he hissed, finally turning his body to fully face Kakashi. “And what sort of  _ persuasion _ will you expect?” His scent control was loosening again, the anger and aggression in his posture reinforced by the acrid scent filling Kakahi’s nostrils. “Will you tell me to…” he snapped his jaw shut, swallowing convulsively. “Do you expect me to _ beg?” _

How did Kakashi keep screwing things up so badly? He didn’t want to react, but he could already feel his hackles rising. The anger in Iruka’s posture, the raw challenge in his scent, the aggressiveness in his tone, all of it was fairly  _ assaulting _ Kakashi’s senses and he took a sharp step back, snarling, “I  _ expect you _ to fucking talk to me like a goddamn  _ adult!” _

Iruka  _ cringed, _ his scent instantly going from furious challenger to meek omega. “Shit,” he took two steps back, curling in on himself, “ _ shit, _ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have - I was just,” Iruka lifted his eyes to gaze at Kakashi. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have said that.” 

Kakashi scrubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Apology accepted,” he said, pausing to weigh his next words carefully. “Did you still want ramen, or…?”

Iruka nodded miserably, shoulders slumped. “Please,” he said softly.

Kakashi nodded sharply, once more resuming their walk through town. Ichiraku Ramen was only a ten minute walk away. They could avoid another public confrontation for ten minutes. 

...Hopefully, anyway.

* * *

Hatake didn’t bother saying anything more, stalking off through the village, expecting Iruka to follow him. Which Iruka did, mentally slapping himself.  _ Twice _ now he’d intentionally tried to spark an aggressive response from the alpha, and both times Hatake had quickly walked himself back from what was clearly an instinctual response to Iruka’s aggression. He didn’t even know why he was doing it, he was just so frustrated by the situation and Hatake seemed to be taking it all in stride. Was he not as miserable as Iruka? Was he not upset at having his right to choose his own mate snatched away from him just so his village could have a  _ more functional operative? _

Or was it…? A thought occurred to Iruka then, and he glanced at Hatake in sudden pity. Could it be that Hatake was so used to being a tool that he’d stopped being angry about the council using him? Perhaps he was simply resigned to his fate, whereas Iruka, who had spent so long resisting the expectations of the council, was having a harder time accepting his new role. 

It gave Iruka something to mull over as they made their way to Ichiraku Ramen. They both ordered, Teuchi giving Iruka a curious look as he prepared their respective bowls. Iruka had come here with his friends many times, but this was his first time coming with someone like Hatake, and Teuchi was clearly curious about their relationship. “A miso ramen with chashu pork and marinated egg for Iruka-san,” Teuchi said, setting the bowl in front of Iruka. “And for Hatake-san, a shoyu ramen with extra vegetables, spinach, and green onions.” He set the bowl topped with a mountain of vegetables before Hatake, who quietly thanked Teuchi.

The two of them ate in awkward silence. Hatake managed to have his mask on every time Iruka glanced his way, and yet the mountain of vegetables slowly sank into a sea of shoyu broth. Iruka enjoyed his own bowl as well, drinking the last of the broth before setting the empty bowl up on the counter. “Thank you, Teuchi-san,” Iruka said. “Delicious as always.”

Kakashi set his own bowl on the counter, some broth remaining in the bottom of it. “Thank you for the meal,” he said. 

“Anytime,” Teuchi replied amiably, shooting Iruka another confused look. Iruka gave him a weak smile in response.

As the two of them took their leave, Hatake’s lone eye drifted over to Iruka. “What next?” he asked, voice carefully neutral. 

Iruka almost felt bad about the way he was being addressed - Hatake had seemed to loosen up a bit at the preschool, but after Iruka’s second blowup of the day he’d gotten all stiff and awkward again. “Why don’t we go ahead and sign that paperwork at the records room and get my shift times sorted?” Iruka suggested.

Hatake nodded, turning and walking in the direction of Hokage Tower. After almost 24 hours of Hatake’s abruptness, Iruka was starting to find it amusing. He still wished Hatake would say  _ something, _ even if it was just “Okay, let’s go” or something along those lines.

It didn’t take long to reach Hokage Tower, and Iruka was pleased to discover that Izumo was on shift at the Mission Desk. Hatake breezed past the desk without a problem, but when Iruka tried to follow, one of the ANBU stationed at the door lifted a hand. “Sorry,” he said, “Authorized access only.” 

Iruka sputtered a little. “I work back there,” he protested, pointing in the direction Hatake had gone. 

The ANBU gave him a look. If tilting one’s head so that the shadows deepened along the sloped curves of the porcelain mask could be called a  _ “look”. _ “You don’t have a shift today,” he said.

“Neither does he!” Iruka protested, gesturing in the direction Hatake had gone. “You let  _ him _ go in!”

The shadows on the ANBU’s mask deepened even further. “Just wait here, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

Iruka sighed heavily, but he wasn’t going to do something as stupid as try to get past the ANBU at the door. He just had to wait for Hatake to come back with his employment paperwork or something. Scowling, he turned back around, noting the smirks being tossed in his direction by several of the people waiting in line to submit mission reports. He supposed they  _ would _ enjoy watching him get summarily dismissed, seeing as he often told them that they weren’t allowed back in the records room when he  _ was _ on shift. Sighing, Iruka slunk over to a corner and folded his arms, watching the doorway Hatake had vanished through with a scowl.

“I’m going to take a quick break,” Izumo told the other person at the desk after they’d worked through most of the line, leaving only one or two people to submit reports. He scooted his chair back, popping up and heading over to Iruka.

Iruka tried to smile at him, relieved to see a friendly face, even if he was still extremely annoyed by the current situation. To his surprise, Izumo didn’t smile back. Instead, he stepped close to Iruka, leaning close to his ear, and said in a low voice, “Step outside with me for a minute?” in a tone that left no room for argument.

“...sure,” Iruka agreed hesitantly, confused.

“Just this way,” Izumo clarified, turning and heading for the side door that the staff usually took to avoid the people out front. 

Iruka noted with some irritation that the ANBU had no problem with him going to the break area, but then again, that wasn’t exactly a classified area so perhaps he was taking offense for no reason. When they had both made it a fair distance from the Mission Desk, Izumo whirled around and  _ glared _ at Iruka. 

“What the  _ hell _ are you doing?” he hissed. “Why are you out? What were you  _ thinking?” _

Iruka stepped back, momentarily taken aback by the venom in Izumo’s tone. “What? What did I do?”

Izumo lifted his hands in a strangling gesture, widening his eyes at Iruka like he’d said something  _ incredibly  _ stupid. “You and Hatake-san!” he snapped. “What the hell are you doing wandering around the village like this?”

“What do you mean?” Iruka yelped, even though he had a pretty good idea. “We just wanted to go out!”

Izumo stared at Iruka for a long minute, understanding dawning across his face as he blinked. “You haven’t done it,” he said before the silence could grow too uncomfortable. “He didn’t mark you.”

“He’s barely even  _ touched _ me,” Iruka hissed in an undertone. 

Izumo looked confused. “I thought you were supposed to marry him because-”

“I know,” Iruka said, just as confused as Izumo. “I don’t know what to think.”

Izumo leaned back against the wall of Hokage Tower, frowning at Iruka. “Is he not… interested?”

Iruka shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “all we’ve really done is eat, and talk about…” Iruka tried to remember. “Um. Training? Teaching? He asked me what I wanted to do.”

Izumo’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. “He  _ asked _ you?”

Iruka nodded slowly. “He filled out my work paperwork this morning. We just came in to find out my new schedule so he could find a  _ tutor _ for me.”

“What do you need a tutor for?” Izumo asked, appearing genuinely baffled.

Iruka scrubbed at his neck, feeling his face heat with embarrassment. “He uh. He said he wanted to help me graduate from the Academy,” he said. “And… pass the Chunin exams?”

Izumo stared at Iruka. “He wants you to make  _ Chunin?” _

Iruka nodded sheepishly. “He wanted to get started on it as soon as possible, I think. He wanted to get it done before the end of his…” Iruka felt his face grow even hotter, “...matrimonial leave.”

“And you want to make Chunin,” Izumo repeated, gazing at Iruka in concern. 

Iruka nodded. “I’d like to.”

Izumo clapped a hand over his cheek, gazing into the middle distance for a long moment. “But why would he go to all that trouble if he hasn’t even…” He dropped his hand and gestured at Iruka’s neck. “...you know. Why would he go to all that effort if he  _ isn’t _ interested?”

Iruka considered the question, thinking about how  _ awkward _ Hatake could be. “Maybe he’s lonely,” he said after a minute. “Maybe he just wants a companion? Someone to come home to?”

Izumo considered Iruka carefully. “Is that what  _ you _ want?”

Iruka scowled at Izumo, stiffening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sighing, Izumo poked Iruka’s shoulder. “I’m just saying… Do you want a mate or not? And if you want a mate, do you think Hatake-san would be a good match for you?”

Iruka considered the question. “I always thought that I’d have to give up my independence in order to find a mate,” he said quietly. 

“That’s not -” Izumo began to protest, but Iruka hushed him with a sharp gesture.

“I know Kotetsu’s not like that,” he said quickly, “but most alphas I know aren’t like him, you know?”

Izumo made a sympathetic noise. “I know,” he said softly. “But that doesn’t mean all other alphas  _ aren’t _ like him, either,” he added, giving Iruka a sharp look. “So Hatake seems… reasonable? Not feral?”

“Maybe more reasonable than me,” Iruka admitted after a moment of introspection. “He’s been nothing but accommodating and kind, honestly.”

Izumo looked like he was going to sigh, but managed to resist the urge. “Oh yeah?”

Iruka nodded. “I mean, I was terrified about the whole - you know,  _ unstable asset _ thing, so I sort of assumed things…”

Izumo shut his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. “What did you do?” he asked.

“Hey!” Iruka protested, “Why are you just assuming that  _ I _ did something?”

Scowling, Izumo poked Iruka in the chest. “You always do something.” He narrowed his eyes at Iruka, examining his expression for something, and apparently found it, because he followed this statement with a gasp and the exclamation, “You  _ did _ do something, didn’t you?”

“I just-” Iruka felt like he was being needlessly harassed about this, “I. Uh. I laid in his bed before he got there?”

Izumo stared at Iruka, blinking twice before he grabbed Iruka’s collar and physically pulled it down to stare at his throat. “What the actual hell, Iruka?! What were you thinking - no, wait, scratch that, clearly you weren’t thinking at all.”

“I was scared!” Iruka protested, pulling Izumo’s grip away from his shirt collar. “I wanted at least  _ something _ to be on my terms!” 

“You were in  _ his bed, _ and he still didn’t  _ do _ anything?” Izumo hissed, before throwing his hands in the air. “Well that answers the question of whether he’s interested, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” Iruka protested.

Disgusted, Izumo shot Iruka a pointed look. “You were in  _ his bed, _ wrapped up in  _ his scent, _ on  _ his wedding night. _ The only reason an alpha wouldn’t see that as a clear proposition was if there was some even greater explanation for why you  _ weren’t _ actually trying to lure him with a blatant invitation.”

Iruka blinked, remembering the way his own scent had been swirling around him, fear and loathing and dismay almost as thick as the alpha’s own scent. “…well…” he said slowly, biting his lip. “I uh. I may have lost scent control.”

Slowly, Izumo blinked. “You lost scent control?”

“I was  _ scared! _ I thought he was feral!” Iruka snapped. “He never  _ talks, _ he just sort of goes off and  _ does _ things and I don’t understand him or what he wants and I didn’t know what I was expected to do or what to anticipate so I sort of threw myself on his bed and then  _ panicked.” _

“You,” Izumo was pinching the bridge of his nose, the pained expression on his face deepening. “You invaded  _ his den _ and then  _ scented it with disgust and terror?” _

Iruka swallowed hard. “I mean, his bed, but-”

“Where else would his den be, Iruka?” Izumo threw his hands in the air exasperatedly. “So you invaded his most private space, loaded it with fear and negative emotions, and then he, what, just let you sit there and stew all sorts of horrible things in his private space?”

Blinking, Iruka began to consider what he’d done in light of how Hatake would have seen it. “Oh. I guess I did do that, didn’t I?”

“How would  _ you _ feel if Hatake had gone into your nest and scented it with aggression and anger?” Izumo demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and outright  _ glaring _ at Iruka now. “Wouldn’t you kick him out and then wash and re-scent everything?” 

Iruka breathed slowly, considering the question. “I guess I would,” he admitted after a moment’s hesitation.

Sighing, Izumo uncrossed his arms and patted Iruka’s shoulder. “He let you  _ stay _ even after you ruined his den, Iruka. That’s got to count for something.”

Iruka grimaced a little. “I’m not sure if I  _ want _ it to count for something.”

Slowly, Izumo lifted a single brow, skepticism clear from his expression. “No?”

“No, I,” Iruka was wrapping his arms around himself again, trying to draw comfort from his own embrace. “I don’t know what to think, Izumo. He’s nice, I guess. But he’s so… quiet. Awkward. I don’t know what to think.”

Izumo pulled Iruka into a hug, holding him for a long moment, running a hand down his back and patting him sympathetically. “You don’t have to make any decisions now,” he assured Iruka. “Just keep an open mind, I guess is what I’m saying.”

“I don’t-” Iruka hated the way his voice cracked when he spoke, so he took a shuddering breath and tried again. “I don’t  _ want _ to keep an open mind, Izumo! I don’t want to be his mate! I didn’t ask for this!” he buried his face in his best friend’s chest, clinging to the comforting embrace for a moment longer before pulling back, swiping at his eyes. “It’s not enough,” he said wearily. “Hatake being nice to me isn’t enough to change how I feel about this situation.”

Sympathy in his gaze, Izumo patted Iruka’s shoulder softly. “I know, Iruka. I know. But try, will you? Try to make the best of things,” he encouraged, squeezing Iruka’s shoulder gently.

Iruka nodded slowly. “All right,” he agreed. “I’ll… try.”

Izumo smiled at Iruka, though his eyes were still sad. “We should head back inside.”

“Okay,” Iruka agreed, turning to follow Izumo back into the Mission Room. When they stepped inside, Hatake had already returned, meeting his gaze from across the room. Steeling himself, Iruka headed across the floor, pausing when he was a mere arm's length away, meekly asking, “Did you get my schedule?”

Hatake stared blankly at him for a moment before responding. “Three to seven, Tuesday through Saturday.”

“Ah, it's almost the same as before,” Iruka forced himself to smile - after all, Hatake was going to a lot of effort on his behalf, the least he could do was try and stop antagonizing the poor alpha. “Thank you.”

Hatake grunted in acknowledgement, turning and walking out of the mission room. Iruka pursed his lips, glancing at Izumo and gesturing demonstratively as if to say  _ Do you see what I’m dealing with? _

Izumo looked surprisingly unsympathetic, making a shooing gesture at Iruka and widening his eyes in the same threatening way he did before dunking Iruka in the river when they were kids. “Go on,” he hissed in a stage-whisper.

Iruka rolled his eyes at Izumo’s antics before turning and following Hatake - his mate - out the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There just wasn't a good place to cut off this chapter, so it ended up getting quite long...  
> I hope the conversation between Izumo and Iruka sort of helps clarify where Iruka's head is at a bit more - he's still stressed and confused and doesn't know how to react to this new situation he's found himself in. He's just not ready to open his heart to Kakashi yet, sadly :( Poor kakashi is gonna have to endure a bit longer, I guess  
> It was also nice to have two people pull iruka aside and remind him that what he's experiencing with Kakashi is actually WILDLY outside the normal - like, Iruka knows taht intellectually, but being reminded of it is still shocking to him.  
> Sorry for the random POV switch in the middle, but I wanted to get Kakashi's perspective in for that moment and it was too short to make it a whole separate chapter.  
> Next chapter - making a lesson plan! Mayyybe visiting a library? More cooking?? who knows! let's wish Kakashi luck in his floundering attempts to woo his husband...


	8. Interest and Reputation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi overhears something he probably shouldn't have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Content Warnings For This Chapter

It didn’t take long for Kakashi to realize that Iruka had been stopped at the door to the records room. Since it was Bear on duty, he didn’t bother arguing - Bear was a stickler for rules and wasn’t going to just drop everything to let Iruka enter if he wasn’t scheduled to work that day. Instead, Kakashi hurried to the records room himself, quickly finding the on-duty supervisor. 

“Yoshimitsu-san,” he said, greeting the man with a quick wave, “I’m back to find out Iruka’s schedule.”

“Ah, so he will be continuing with us?” Sato Yoshimitsu, an old alpha who had been working in the records room for so long there were rumors he’d been assigned the position by the First Hokage, shuffled across the room with an ease that belied his advanced age. He picked up a file folder, rifling through it before quickly withdrawing a piece of paper. “Here you are,” he said, shuffling back over to Kakashi and handing it to him without fanfare. “You’re going to need to memorize that, I don’t have the paper to spare.”

Kakashi nodded, committing the schedule to memory and handing it back to Yoshimitsu. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. 

“Congratulations,” Yoshimitsu replied, giving Kakashi a sharp look as he added, “Take care of the boy.”

“I will,” Kakashi agreed readily. 

“Right, move along then,” Yoshimitsu said dismissively, moving back into the records room and picking up a scroll from a small pile of finished reports delivered by the clerks at the Mission Desk. He skimmed the label, turned to file it, and paused, staring pointedly at Kakashi.

Taking the hint, Kakashi nodded, exiting the room. When he returned to the Mission Room, he was surprised to discover that Iruka was gone. For a moment, panic spiked through his system. A moment later, he noted that Kamizuki’s chair was empty. Ah. Iruka and Izumo were likely chatting, then. He poked his head out the front door first, and noted that no one was there. As he was crossing the Mission Room again, the remaining clerk spoke up in a bored tone. “Kamizuki and Umino went out the side door,” he jerked his head in the direction of the exit.

“Ah,” Kakashi said, “noted.” He headed for the door, sliding it open noiselessly. He was about to step outside when he heard Iruka speaking, his voice harsh and  _ pained _ in a way that sent a pang of agony through Kakashi’s chest.

“I don’t  _ want _ to keep an open mind, Izumo! I don’t want to be his mate! I didn’t ask for this!” 

Kakashi swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat. Iruka was talking about _him._ He shouldn’t have heard that, it was private, clearly intended to be heard by Izumo alone. But he _had_ heard it, and this new knowledge felt like a knife to the chest, sucking the air from his lungs and suffocating him. He wanted to tell himself it was fine. After all, hadn’t he known from the start that Iruka wasn’t interested, didn’t see him as a potential mate? Sternly, he reminded himself that he couldn’t be hurt by something he’d already known all along. Right? But somehow, along the way, he’d managed to shove that knowledge back down, hide it with all the other ugly truths in his life. Somehow, he’d made himself forget how much Iruka despised the idea of being with him. Now, hearing Iruka speak freely with Izumo, that knowledge was rushing back to the surface, clawing at Kakashi’s chest like there was a monster tearing at him from the inside.

Iruka made a soft snuffling noise, his voice slightly muffled by something - Kamizuki’s shoulder, perhaps. Kakashi wished  _ he _ could hold Iruka, comfort him, but that was a ridiculous dream that could never come to pass. 

A moment later, Kakashi heard Iruka shift, like he was squaring his shoulders, composing himself. “It’s not enough,” his voice came again, quiet and  _ weary _ in a way that felt bone-deep. “Hatake being nice to me isn’t enough to change how I feel about this situation.”

Kakashi couldn’t listen anymore. He shouldn’t have continued to listen after hearing the first part! He couldn’t exactly go out there now anyway. He couldn’t allow Iruka to  _ see _ him and wonder  _ How much did he hear?  _ He didn’t want Iruka to fear him, to dread retribution for the rejection he’d spoken so plainly to his best friend.

Practically choking on his own breath, Kakashi tried to force himself to breathe as he silently shut the door again and moved back into the Mission Room. His chest was tight and his throat felt thick, making it hard to swallow. This wasn’t new information, it was just a reminder of an inconvenient truth, he told himself sternly. So what if Iruka hated him? It was fine. He just had to make Iruka happy, and if that meant providing for Iruka and not expecting anything in return, he could do that. Iruka had made it clear that being nice wasn’t enough to win his heart, but it was all Kakashi knew to do. He just needed to stop hoping for anything beyond what Iruka was willing to give him and be grateful for what he  _ could _ have with the omega. Iruka was offering him a companion to make the Hatake residence feel less lonely… surely he could be satisfied with that. It would be selfish to expect anything more.

A few moments later, Kamizuki walked back inside, followed by Iruka, who looked… miserable. Kakashi felt the realization kick him in the gut. Iruka was  _ miserable _ and there was nothing he could do to make it better because Iruka wanted  _ nothing to do with him. _

Crossing the room, Iruka’s gait slowed as he drew closer. _Because he’s_ _afraid of you,_ Kakashi’s mind helpfully supplied. 

The beautiful omega edged a little closer, finally lifting his gaze to fix his warm brown eyes on Kakashi, asking in a soft voice, “Did you get my schedule?”

For a moment, Kakashi couldn’t remember it. Then his training kicked in and was able to recite the schedule he’d committed to memory earlier. “Three to seven, Tuesday through Saturday.”

“Ah, it's almost the same as before,” Iruka commented with a soft smile. “Thank you,” he added, eyes lighting up as his expression did the same. 

Kakashi may not have a chance to win Iruka’s heart, but at least he could find a way to make him smile. He swallowed hard, trying to think of a response, but nothing seemed to come to him. Instead, he just made what he hoped sounded like a pleased noise before turning and walking away - he needed to get out of the Mission Room, he needed fresh air, something to breathe. His mind was still screaming in the background about how much Iruka hated him, and the enclosed space and sharp stares from Kamizuki and the other desk-chuunin certainly weren’t helping. So, like a coward, he fled. 

It took a few seconds for Iruka to follow him out, and a small part of Kakashi’s mind sneered at that, too. Of course he would be hesitant to follow Kakashi - he couldn’t stand being  _ near _ Kakashi, of course he didn’t want to accompany him! 

With some effort, Kakashi pushed the negative thoughts aside, reminding himself that what mattered most was Iruka’s wants and needs, and that’s what he needed to focus on. Being bitter wasn’t going to improve the situation. He needed to focus on what he could do for Iruka, not his own personal feelings about the rejection. Besides, Iruka hadn’t rejected him to his face yet, so clearly he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. He would do his best to carry on as if nothing had happened, no matter how much it hurt to be unwanted. 

“Now what?” Iruka asked, jogging a few steps to catch up with Kakashi before falling into step beside him.

Kakashi blinked. He hadn’t thought past his sudden urgent need to get away from the mission desk. “A tutor,” he answered, fumbling to get back on track. “We’re going to the academy to find you a tutor.” 

“Oh,” Iruka said, sounding confused. “But I thought I was going to study in the morning? Aren’t classes usually in session at that time?” 

“Yes, but the Academy sometimes assigns tutors to children who are falling behind,” Kakashi explained as he continued walking. “Often children with civilian parents, who might need guidance their families are unable to provide. They’ll have recommendations for us at the Academy.”

“I wasn’t offered a tutor,” Iruka grumbled in an undertone, “And I didn’t have a family to provide guidance.”

Kakashi wasn’t sure how to address that point, since he also hadn’t been given a tutor. Then again, Kakashi had graduated early enough that he clearly hadn’t needed one. Had Iruka needed a tutor? But the Hokage himself had taken an interest in Iruka, clearly he had been a bright and talented child! “I wasn’t aware you’d struggled in school,” Kakashi said simply.

“Oh, missed that bit of the village gossip, did you? And here I thought you knew all about me,” Iruka snapped back, his glare as sharp as his voice. Had he used a different tone, Kakashi might have called it teasing, but after what he’d just overheard Iruka telling Kamizuki and the scowl that crossed Iruka’s face as he spoke, Kakashi just couldn’t bring himself to believe it was intended to be without malice.

What could he say? He didn’t know that much about Iruka, only what he’d picked up by watching him, too awkward and uncertain to ever actually interact with him. He’d watched Iruka, admired him, but he’d only really started that after their first meeting, so Kakashi really hadn’t taken notice of him back when he’d been a student in the academy. He didn’t know much about Iruka at all, and every conversation they had seemed to reinforce just how little Kakashi knew about the man he’d married less than twenty-four hours ago. “I know very little about you,” Kakashi admitted, trying hard to keep the bitterness out of his tone. “I look forward to getting to know you better.” 

Iruka glanced sharply at Kakashi, a chagrined look crossing his features. “Yeah,” he finally said, somewhat wary, “I look forward to getting to know you, too.” He continued walking beside Kakashi for several long minutes, watching his feet scuffing along the ground. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like you were talking about me behind my back - and even if you were, I shouldn’t be mad. I know people talk.” 

Kakashi nodded slowly before attempting to extend his sympathy. “People talk about me, too.”

Iruka barked a laugh at this. “Yeah,” he said, voice shaking a little. “Yeah, they do. How do you deal with it?” 

Kakashi fully turned and stared at Iruka for several seconds before the omega turned to him in response, lifting his eyebrows.

“Well?” Iruka prompted. 

“Do I… seem like I know how to deal with gossip?” Kakashi asked, genuinely wondering where Iruka would get that impression.

“Can’t you just, I dunno, Intimidate people into not talking?” Iruka asked.

“Being intimidating is the focus of most of the gossip,” Kakashi pointed out. “Usually I just try not to draw extra attention. Out of sight, out of mind.” 

Iruka huffed a little. “I guess it's similar for me - I stand out because of my behavior, so people talk about me.”

Kakashi made a soft sound to show he was listening. 

“I don’t really have the option of being out of sight,” Iruka bemoaned. “I always seem to be drawing attention just by doing what I want!” 

Kakashi couldn’t help but agree - after all, Iruka had been the one who decided to treat him when he should have left him collapsed and chakra-exhausted on the floor of Hokage Tower. Instead, Iruka had chosen to pillow Kakashi’s aching head on his lap and comfort him - certainly not the sort of behavior that encouraged disinterest. Or, not  _ Kakashi’s  _ disinterest, anyway. But he felt awkward mentioning such an inconsequential thing to Iruka - he’d seen him treat several injured ANBU since that time - clearly, it had just been one of many instances where Iruka chose to break with tradition and intentionally care for the most deadly and secretive of Konoha’s covert operatives. That day had likely meant very little to Iruka, but was one of Kakashi’s most precious memories. There was more to it than Iruka merely doing as he pleased, though. Iruka was… eye-catching, all on his own. How could he  _ not _ notice Iruka, once his interest had been caught? 

“The eye is drawn to bright and beautiful things,” Kakashi said, trying to pull his scattered thoughts into words. “Is it truly surprising that others take notice?”

Iruka shot a sharp, faintly confused look in his direction. “Did you just call me  _ beautiful?” _ He sounded like he couldn’t decide if he was offended by the statement.

Kakashi just stared back at Iruka, unwilling to concede this point. “I did. Do you deny it?” 

Iruka stopped walking and stared at Kakashi with wide eyes before dropping his gaze, scuffing his feet on the road briefly. “I… Yes?” he frowned a little. “I mean, I’m a man, I’m not…” he clapped a hand to one cheek, making a sharp sound. _ “Focus,” _ he hissed to himself before lifting his eyes back up to meet Kakashi’s. “I’m not beautiful,” He said at full volume, glaring at Kakashi, his eyes  _ daring _ him to contradict the statement.

Kakashi had no interest in starting yet  _ another _ argument between them, and had accepted at this point that anything he said was going to be taken the wrong way, and it was easier to simply say as little as possible to avoid complicating things. Instead of answering Iruka with a smart remark like  _ you might need to invest in a mirror _ or  _ have you  _ seen _ yourself lately?, _ Kakashi shrugged lightly and resumed walking in the direction of the Academy. 

After a moment, he heard Iruka huff with irritation before he trotted up behind Kakashi to match his place once more. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you were trying to say,” Iruka said almost as soon as he’d caught up. “I do, I just… I don’t like to be thought of that way.”

Thought of  _ what _ way? Beautiful? 

The confusion must have shown on his face, because Iruka glanced away again, his posture growing more rigid as he said, stiffly, “I refused the honeypots for a reason.”

Kakashi didn’t dare enter the minefield of this particular topic, so he just kept walking and hoped Iruka would get to the point soon.

“I don’t want to be treated like some… delicate, fragile…” Iruka gestured with his hands, “... honeypot,” he finally said. “I don’t have wiles, I’m terrible at seduction, and… and I’m not beautiful, okay? I’m not.”

When he said  _ I’m not beautiful _ it sounded a lot more desperate than the first time. Like he was trying to convince Kakashi through repetition. “Okay,” Kakashi said, making a mental note to never  _ ever _ fucking comment on Iruka’s appearance ever again, as if it hadn’t been made plainly clear at the Mission Desk, Iruka was not interested in hearing anything like that from him. He hadn’t even said it directly, he’d meant it in the abstract, but clearly he’d touched a nerve. Again. 

“It’s just,” Iruka scrubbed a hand over his hair, “You don’t know what it’s like, being called the  _ village-bound honeypot. _ Everything I do is somehow inherently tied to my being an omega.” 

“Hm,” Kakashi said, biting his lip to not say more, but he couldn’t seem to hold his tongue this time. “You’re right, I don’t know what it’s like to be called something like that. People usually call me  _ friend-killer _ and assume everything I do is tied to me being a murderer.”

“They don’t  _ only _ call you that,” Iruka muttered, scrubbing at his neck, though he was very pointedly looking  _ away _ from Kakashi to avoid making eye contact. 

Kakashi wanted to remind him that his other village names were mostly related to his sharingan. Everyone was defined by publicly visible traits to a greater or lesser extent, and while Kakashi could sympathize with Iruka’s frustration, he wasn’t going to allow him to say something as blatantly false as  _ you don't know what it's like _ to someone whose public life had been defined first by his disgraced father, then his role in the death of his friends, and then his use of a dead friend’s  _ repurposed body part. _ “No, they don’t only call me that,” was what Kakashi said, instead of going into detail. “But that doesn’t make it less… harsh.”

Iruka flinched slightly. “Right,” he said in a soft voice. “So I guess you do understand, then, why I don’t want to be called  _ beautiful _ by someone like you.”

Kakashi didn’t know what Iruka meant by  _ someone like you _ , but rather than push the issue, he just nodded. “It won’t happen again,” he promised.

Iruka smiled at that, and Kakashi wondered why none of his Icha-Icha novels had included a character who didn’t want to he called beautiful - no, wait, Iruka hadn’t said he didn’t want to be called beautiful, he’d said he didn’t want to be called beautiful by  _ someone like Kakashi. _ Which was different, probably. If he were actually interested in someone, if Iruka actually  _ wanted _ to mate them… 

He still couldn’t think of a character from Icha-Icha who acted like that, though. So the point stood that Iruka was… different. Well okay, he knew Icha-Icha was fiction, he couldn’t really expect his mating to turn out like a trashy romance novel. He hadn’t expected it. But he had hoped… He cast a quick glance at Iruka, only to discover the omega’s eyes were still on him. He quickly looked away again, reminding himself that it meant nothing - Iruka was curious about him, perhaps, but he wasn’t interested in being Kakashi’s mate, and the sooner he could accept that the easier his life would be.

They walked the rest of the way to the Academy in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats to everyone who correctly predicted what was happening in this chapter! You know I had to.... haha, I did say this was a slow burn, and it's literally the day after their marriage. This relationship is going to take some serious time to develop and flourish, especially if Iruka keeps rebuffing every attempt by Kakashi to create some emotional connections.... lololol  
> Thank you so much to everyone for your continued support and encouragement! I hope you continue to love reading this fic as much as I love writing it!! :D


	9. With Friends Like These...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka knows he's being a jerk, he just doesn't know how to _stop._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Implied past non-con, slut-shaming, victim-blaming, Mizuki

Iruka kept glancing at Hatake as they walked. After Iruka had gone and shoved his foot ankle-deep in his mouth over something as stupid as a bad reputation (and really, why hadn’t he considered the fact that of all people, Hatake was most likely to understand his opinion on the matter), they hadn’t said anything more. Hatake seemed as cool and collected as always - he hadn’t even raised his voice or growled when he’d pointed out that maybe being called  _ friend-killer _ was also a terrible thing and he could probably relate to Iruka’s aversion to pet names that reminded him of the sneers and catcalls he dealt with far too often around the village. 

He’d been, as he had been  _ all day, _ entirely too reasonable and accommodating, and it was making Iruka feel bad. He didn’t want to seem unreasonable, but when he compared his behaviors to Hatake… well, he actually was being pretty unreasonable. It wasn’t fair to Hatake, but Iruka didn’t know how to improve things, and knowing he wasn’t good enough made him stressed, and then when he was stressed he ended up snapping at Hatake more… it was all a big mess.

He glanced anxiously at Hatake, not sure what to say now that they’d both lapsed into silence, and he couldn’t think of anything that would improve on the silence. By the time they’d reached the Academy annex where the teachers’ offices were located, he still hadn’t thought of anything further to say. What he did notice, as they walked in, was a friendly face at one of the desks in the open floor plan area where teachers were prepping for classes. “Mizuki!” Iruka exclaimed, grinning at one of his oldest friends and giving him a quick wave. 

Mizuki lifted his head, his eyes snapping to Iruka. His eyebrows jumped towards his hairline in surprise before his eyes slid to the side, landing on Hatake, at which point his expression darkened incrementally. “Oh.” He said, standing and walking across the room toward them, “Hey Iruka.” He glanced at Hatake, holding his gaze for a long moment before adding, “Hatake-san.”

“Is Kazuto-sensei in?” Hatake asked, skipping over the pleasantries in favor of getting right to business. Iruka scowled, and wanted to tell Hatake not to be rude, but he also felt like  _ maybe _ with his track record today he didn’t have much of a right to be telling Hatake how to behave. 

“Oh, yeah, he’s in the back office,” Mizuki pointed. “He’s in a meeting now, though. You could probably go into the reception area to wait, if you want.”

“Do you mind if I stay here?” Iruka asked, glancing at Hatake. “I don’t really want to sit in a room waiting for the meeting to end, and you know more about what to ask for than I do.”

Hatake’s dark eyes watched Iruka for a long moment before he nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want,” he said slowly, “I don’t mind waiting by myself.”

“Great,” Iruka turned to Mizuki with a grin. “So how were the kids today?”

Mizuki was still staring at Hatake, a smirk tugging at his mouth. After a moment, he returned his attention to Iruka. “Huh? Oh, the kids. They were fine, I guess.” 

Hatake said nothing, but he seemed to be staring back at Mizuki for a long moment before he moved across the room, heading for the back offices. Watching him go, Iruka took a moment to cast his eyes around the main area appreciatively. He’d never actually been in the teaching office area of the Academy, though of course Mizuki had told him about it. “So this is where you work?”

“I mean, when I’m not in the classroom or off grading somewhere,” Mizuki answered easily. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Hatake moved into the office area, shutting the door behind him. As soon as it was closed, he turned back to Iruka, gripping his shoulders. “What are you  _ doing _ here?” he demanded, “I thought you would be… you know...” he leered in a suggestive manner. “Not here.”

Iruka shook his head lightly. “I mean, we got married, but we haven’t… you know.”

Mizuki’s eyes widened in surprise. “He didn’t…” he reached out, tugging at Iruka’s collar. Unlike Izumo, who had been pretty gentle about it, Mizuki pulled so hard that he nearly choked Iruka in the process. 

“Ack!” Iruka clutched at his own collar, tugging it back up. “No, he didn’t! What the hell was that?”

“Sorry,” Mizuki said faintly, patting the collar back into place, his eyes locked on the side of Iruka’s throat as he did so. “So what, he’s not interested? I don’t get that at all,” he added, smirking at Iruka. “Who wouldn’t want someone like you?”

Iruka, who had told Mizuki time and again that he didn’t particularly  _ want  _ to be wanted like that, scowled back at him. “That’s not the point,” he snapped.

Lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender, Mizuki shrugged off the complaint, much as he usually did. “So you’re out and about the day after your wedding,” he said, casting another glance in the direction of the office, “and you’re both okay with that?”

“It was his idea!” Iruka resisted the urge to stomp his foot. Why did people keep acting like Hatake being out and about was  _ his _ fault, when going out today had been  _ Hatake’s _ idea? He was so sick of people blaming him for this when it had been something they’d both agreed to! 

Mizuki’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah?” he turned and stared even more pointedly at the office. “Wonder why?”

“I don’t know, maybe he wants some time to get used to things,” Iruka answered, honestly as confused about things as Mizuki.

“Maybe he just doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” Mizuki purred, stepping a bit closer to Iruka, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Uncomfortably, Iruka took a step back, shrugging Mizuki’s hand off. “I don’t think that’s it,” he said. 

Mizuki’s face darkened a little before he leaned forward and said in a harsh whisper, “Does he know about…” 

Before he could finish the question, Iruka grabbed Mizuki’s shoulders and shook him sharply. “No!” he hissed, “No one knows about that, would you stop bringing it up?”

Mizuki leaned back a little and eyed Iruka. “Don’t you think something like that would be important for your mate to know about, though?”

“We’re not mated yet,” Iruka replied stubbornly, releasing Mizuki’s shoulders and glaring at him. “And even if we  _ were, _ it’s still none of  _ your _ business.”

Shrugging, Mizuki stepped away and moved back around his desk, sitting down and shuffling a few papers. “I’m just saying,” he said with forced nonchalance, though the tension in his shoulders belied how frustrated he really was, “maybe that’s why he didn’t  _ mate _ you as soon as he had the chance. He did pick the  _ one _ non-honeypot retiree from his list of options. How do you think he’d feel about knowing that you’re  _ also _ damaged goods-”

Iruka slammed his open palms down on the teaching desk Mizuki was seated at, snarling, “How  _ dare  _ you? Honeypots aren’t  _ damaged _ , you have  _ friends _ who were former honeypots! Why would you say something like that?”

Mizuki leaned back in his chair, giving Iruka an exasperated look. “I didn’t say  _ I _ thought like that, I’m just saying that maybe  _ he _ does.” He jerked his head in the direction of the office where Hatake was presumably waiting. “Alphas talk, Iruka. I don’t always agree, but I still hear how they talk, you know? And for better or worse, Honeypots… well, being mated to a honeypot isn’t exactly an  _ honor, _ you know? Guys who mate honeypots are getting some other alpha’s sloppy seconds.”

Iruka felt his fingers curling unconsciously into fists. “Did you tell  _ Kotetsu _ that?”

“No!” Mizuki scowled at Iruka, “Of course not! But I’m sure he’s heard it plenty of times.” He shrugged his shoulders expansively. “Besides, he loves Izumo. He doesn’t care what other people think about it. It’s the same with me,” he added earnestly, reaching out and wrapping one of his hands over Iruka’s clenched ifst. “I don’t care what other people think, Iruka. I just care about  _ you.” _

Iruka tugged his hand away from Mizuki’s, still fighting to remain calm. “Don’t,” he said sharply. 

“Don’t?” Mizuki repeated innocently. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t care about me,” Iruka said, suddenly tired. “Don’t act like this,” he tugged at his collar, briefly baring his unmarred skin, “means that I’m still open to this,” he gestured at Mizuki, who was still gazing up at him. “I’m  _ married, _ Mizuki. Keep your hands off.”

Mizuki scowled at Iruka, drawing his hands away slowly. “You don’t even want to be married,” he snarled, “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“That’s not the point!” Iruka said sharply. “Just because I don’t want something doesn’t make it not true, and I don’t - I  _ won’t _ go back on my commitment. Even if it means…” Iruka cast an anxious glance in the direction of the office, hand creeping up to cup the place on his neck where a mating bite would go. “…you know.” 

“I think you’re making a mistake,” Mizuki told Iruka bitterly.

Iruka was beginning to think the real mistake was waiting with Mizuki instead of Hatake. “I disagree,” Iruka said, lifting his chin and glaring down at Mizuki. “I think I'll go wait with my  _ husband _ after all,” he said, narrowing his eyes pointedly on the word  _ husband, _ noting how Mizuki’s eyes flashed with irritation at the same moment. “See you around, Mizuki.” Without waiting for a reply, Iruka spun on his heel and marched in the direction of the back office. He heard Mizuki grumble something at his retreating back but he couldn't make out the exact words. Which was fine, Iruka wasn’t sure he would have even wanted to hear what Mizuki had to say.

He stormed across the room and yanked the door open without bothering to knock. The room was small and cozy. A few houseplants were perched on shelves, and there was a low bookshelf lining one wall, a bench set against the opposite wall. Hatake was sitting in the middle of the bench. He’d stiffened slightly when Iruka burst in, but relaxed as he recognized the person entering. “I thought you were waiting with your friend?”

“He’s being an ass,” Iruka explained, sitting down on Kakashi’s right and sighing heavily. “I decided I’d rather wait with you. You’re less likely to get on my nerves than he is.”

Hatake turned his head to gaze at Iruka, his fathomless charcoal eye considering him for a long moment before he finally said, “But I’ve already gotten on your nerves at  _ least _ three times today.”

Iruka chuckled sheepishly, scrubbing a hand over his head. “Yeah, I know, but that’s not  _ your _ fault. I didn’t. Uh.” He paused, realizing he’d been about to say he hadn’t slept well, but he’d slept in  _ Hatake‘s _ bed. “It’s been a stressful few days,” he said instead. “So I’m more touchy than usual.”

“I know what you mean,” Hatake said sympathetically. “Moving out of the dorms into a new environment is… unsettling.”

Iruka frowned, remembering in that moment that he hadn’t known Hatake was living in his ancestral home until they’d arrived. And from the way he said it, it sounded like… “You had to move too, right?”

Hatake nodded slowly. “I had to get the house ready - my room in the Jonin barracks wouldn’t have been suitable for long-term cohabitation.” 

Iruka wondered if Hatake’s old barracks room was much better than his own shoddy apartment had been. “So you had to fix up the Hatake residence?” 

Hatake nodded slowly, the part of his face that peeked over the edge of his mask - just above his cheeks - growing pink. In a way, Iruka found it surprisingly adorable that Hatake could blush despite a whole face mask of anonymity. Usually it was just the tops of the ears, so somehow this blush felt like a bit of a treat. “I’m still fixing it up, actually,” Hatake confessed, sounding a bit self-conscious. “The library I told you about needs some work, there is a spare room that needs additional fixing up - and replacement tatami mats -, and two of the outer buildings could use some repairs, too. My, ah,  _ colleague _ and I spent about three days preparing for your arrival, so we mostly focused on the immediate areas - bath, kitchen, dining room, and, uh…” Hatake cut himself off with a strangled noise, and it took Iruka a second to figure out why.

They’d worked on all those rooms, and likely one other set of rooms. A set of rooms Iruka had then  _ refused _ to use. “Oh, yes, the bedrooms, too, I imagine, as they’re both lovely,” Iruka said quickly, trying not to sound as embarrassed as he felt. “The mattress and bedding you got for me was about ten times nicer than anything I’ve had before.” 

Hatake appeared concerned. “Was it…  _ too _ nice?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused, and Iruka realized with some mortification that he was going to have to explain that he’d expected Hatake to forcibly mate him, and that's why he’d gone to the alpha’s room instead of  _ his _ room - he hadn’t wanted that experience to be associated with his own bedroom, or he’d never get a restful night’s sleep there ever again. 

“Not at all, I just… got confused,” Iruka said vaguely, telling himself they could come back to this discussion later, when they weren’t seated in a public waiting room.

“Oh,” Hatake said, still sounding uncertain, but willing to let it go. “So you  _ do _ like the room?”

“It’s amazing,” Iruka said. “And  _ huge, _ and all the furnishings are so  _ nice, _ it’s really incredible, yes. I like it a lot.” He grinned at Hatake, surprised to find that he didn’t really feel the need to force the smile, especially once he caught sight of Hatake’s blush creeping up his cheeks again. 

“Good,” Hatake said in a strangled tone, “That’s good.”

Iruka glanced down at his hands, his fingers tangling nervously as he spoke. “I uh. I know I haven’t exactly made this an easy transition,” he began, unable to look at Hatake and gauge his reaction due to his own embarrassment, “and I really do appreciate all that you’ve done to try and…”  _ cushion the blow. _ He couldn’t say that, though, could he? It would just sound like he was complaining about the arrangement all over again. “... make me feel welcome,” Iruka finished awkwardly, finally daring a quick glance in his new husband’s direction.

Hatake’s eye was fixed on him like he was hanging on Iruka’s every word. “It’s my pleasure,” he said slowly. “I’m glad to hear that you feel welcome.”

Oh. Iruka felt his face heat in sudden embarrassment. Oh, Hatake had thought he hadn’t liked his home? Or the sleeping arrangements? Or something. Though now that he stopped to think about it, could he really blame him for assuming such a thing? After all, Iruka had done very little to assure Hatake that he felt cared for and comfortable. Instead, he’d gotten irritated at him for being an early riser, snapped at him about money, misplaced his frustration at Natsume-sensei’s scolding, and then accused him of being unsympathetic to having a bad reputation in the village. No  _ wonder _ Hatake was tiptoeing around him, Iruka hadn’t done much to reinforce the things he’d liked or been impressed by, too busy worrying about mating and other newlywed expectations.

Maybe they needed to actively sit down and talk about those expectations, just to be sure they were on the same page… “I’m sorry,” Iruka said. “I feel like I’ve been acting horrible all day, and you really don’t deserve it.” He smiled weakly at Hatake, determined that from this point forward he was going to at least  _ try _ and be nicer to the man. “I  _ do _ feel welcome in your home, you’re an excellent cook, and I can’t wait to see your library. Thank you for being so patient with me.”

Hatake blinked once, appearing slightly stunned. Then he slowly nodded. “You’re... welcome?” he said faintly. “Apology accepted, I mean.”

Iruka grinned, feeling slightly better about everything already. He was really going to try and be nicer to Hatake after this. He hoped it wouldn’t be too hard. He wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of cool serenity. In fact, Anko loved to insist that he was the most hot-headed member of their friend group. 

...now that he thought about it, none of his other friends had been in a hurry to deny it, either. Sighing, Iruka shook his head at himself. He’d just have to do his best to keep a cool head on his shoulders. How hard could it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iruka is immature, but at least he's aware of it.... hopefully they can get back on track and actually do a little communicating!


	10. A Meeting With The Headmaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi finds Iruka a tutor... sort of.

Kakashi almost sighed with relief when he and Iruka made it to the Academy without somehow finding  _ another _ touchy subject to discuss. This was likely in part due to the fact that Kakashi hadn’t spoken since they’d finished arguing about Iruka’s beauty. He may not be welcome to comment on it, and he would certainly respect Iruka’s wishes in that regard, but he was still allowed to think it in the recesses of his own mind. 

When they reached the Academy offices, Iruka brightened considerably when greeting his friend Mizuki. The alpha in question stared at Kakashi with a look in his eye that raised his hackles. It took a significant effort to maintain a neutral expression when facing the obnoxious Chunin-sensei who seemed to treat Iruka’s preference for staying with him as a victory. But Kakashi was trying not to start any more arguments, so he couldn’t exactly tell Iruka that his friend was being antagonistic and made Kakashi hesitant to leave Iruka alone with him. And even if he had said it, was it really any of his business what Iruka did? Iruka could make his own decisions, and he’d made it quite clear that he didn’t care for Kakashi’s company. 

So Kakashi left Iruka with his alpha friend, no matter how much his instincts screamed that it was a mistake, and he headed for the office to wait for Kazuto-sensei, the Academy Headmaster, to return from his meeting. He sat, waiting, fighting a newly-discovered possessive streak that wanted him to march back out and tell Iruka’s alpha friend that Iruka was  _ off limits _ and that he was Kakashi’s husband and should be approached as such, not with that  _ leering _ interest the man had been showing. He had to remind himself, repeatedly, that Iruka didn’t see him that way, didn’t want him as a mate, and would probably leave him for another alpha if he got the chance. It wouldn’t be wise to get attached. But it was too late, Kakashi was slowly realizing. He was already taken by the idea of Iruka being a part of his life and the thought of losing that was too painful to dwell on. So he didn’t, staring blankly at the wall and trying not to think about anything at all while he waited.

So wrapped up in not thinking was he that he was caught by surprise when someone else burst into the office. It only took a quick glance to identify the intruder - Iruka? Baffled, Kakashi said the first thing that came to mind. “I thought you were waiting with your friend?”

“He’s being an ass,” Iruka explained, throwing himself into the branch at Kakashi’s right side with a dramatic sigh. “I decided I’d rather wait with you. You’re less likely to get on my nerves than he is.”

Kakashi stared at him for a long moment, not sure what Iruka could possibly mean by such a statement. “But I’ve already gotten on your nerves at  _ least _ three times today.”

Iruka chuckled at the observation, his gaze avoiding Kakashi’s as he scrubbed a hand over his head. “Yeah, I know, but that’s not  _ your _ fault. I didn’t. Uh.” Iruka paused, his face twisting a little, clearly revising whatever he’d been about to say. As much as Kakashi appreciated Iruka’s forthrightness, he really wasn't looking forward to another argument, so he appreciated the attempt at diplomacy. “It’s been a stressful few days, so I’m more touchy than usual.”

“I know what you mean,” Kakashi agreed, carefully weighing his own response. “Moving out of the dorms into a new environment is… unsettling.” Surely that wouldn’t be too controversial a statement? They could agree on that, at least? Kakashi felt his stomach swoop in dismay when he caught a hint of a frown stealing across Iruka’s face. But he needn’y have worried, because what Iruka said next wasn’t accusatory or irritated at all. If anything, he sounded sympathetic.

“You had to move too, right?”

Kakashi nodded slowly. “I had to get the house ready - my room in the Jonin barracks wouldn’t have been suitable for long-term cohabitation.” He waited for a response, once more hoping he hadn’t accidentally said something wrong.

But Iruka seemed much more inclined to take Kakashi’s words as they were intended - the beginnings of a casual conversation. “So you had to fix up the Hatake residence?” he asked, glancing at Kakashi with interest. 

Kakashi nodded slowly, feeling his face heat at the sudden interest directed his way, not to mention the fact that he wasn’t actually finished working on the old house. “I’m still fixing it up, actually,” told him, hating how that made him sound. He couldn’t even provide his husband with a fully functional house! Having nothing else to work with, Kakashi quickly explained what still needed repairs. “The library I told you about needs some work, there is a spare room that needs additional fixing up - and replacement tatami mats -, and two of the outer buildings could use some repairs, too. My, ah,  _ colleague _ and I spent about three days preparing for your arrival, so we mostly focused on the immediate areas - bath, kitchen, dining room, and, uh…” Kakashi cut himself off as he realized he’d been about to touch on what was likely a sensitive subject, and he’d really been trying his best not to bring up any points of contention, and he  _ still _ didn’t know why Iruka hadn’t slept in his own bedroom.

Iruka glanced at Kakashi in concern before a knowing look came over him. “Oh, yes, the bedrooms, too, I imagine, as they’re both lovely,” Iruka said quickly, a hint of embarrassment in his tone, a light blush coming to his cheeks as he spoke. “The mattress and bedding you got for me was about ten times nicer than anything I’ve had before.” 

“Was it…  _ too _ nice?” Kakashi asked carefully, genuinely confused by the whole debacle. 

Beside him, Iruka stiffened, and Kakashi steeled himself for another volley of agitated words from the volatile omega, but Iruka’s shoulders slumped a moment later.

“Not at all,” Iruka told Kakashi, which came as something of a shock. “I just… got confused,” Iruka added vaguely. There was more to it than that, clearly, but the way Iruka’s eyes darted around the room made it clear he wasn’t comfortable discussing it here. Kakashi would just have to ask him about it later. 

Even so, he couldn’t quite leave it there, still anxious that perhaps he’d done something wrong. “Oh. So you  _ do _ like the room?”

“It’s amazing,” Iruka said, a genuine smile breaking across his face, warming Kakashi like a beam of pure sunlight. “And  _ huge, _ and all the furnishings are so  _ nice, _ it’s really incredible, yes. I like it a lot.” 

Oh. He liked it. He liked it a  _ lot. _ Relief poured through Kakashi, and his throat felt right as he said, “Good. That’s good.”

Iruka dropped his gaze to his lap, where his hands twitched restlessly. “I uh. I know I haven’t exactly made this an easy transition, and I really do appreciate all that you’ve done to try and…” he paused again, clearly choosing his words. “... make me feel welcome,” he finished, stealing a quick glance at Kakashi.

Kakashi just nodded, genuinely grateful for 

Iruka’s gesture after such a difficult morning. “It’s my pleasure,” he said. “I’m glad to hear that you feel welcome.”

Iruka ducked his head, his cheeks burning bright with what had to be embarrassment, and Kakashi couldn’t figure out  _ why. _ He was trying to choose his words with care, to react as neutrally as possible, yet Iruka kept having such outsized reactions to his words! He’d ruined this conversation, too, in all likelihood. Before Kakashi could open his mouth to apologise, though, Iruka lifted his head again, his gaze meeting Kakashi’s, filled with a wealth of emotions that Kakashi had not prepared himself to face. 

“I’m sorry,” Iruka said. “I feel like I’ve been acting horrible all day, and you really don’t deserve it.” He smiled weakly then, as if trying to reassure  _ Kakashi. _ The idea that Iruka wanted to  _ reassure _ him felt so foreign and wonderful that Kakashi could only stare back at him and wait for whatever came next. “I  _ do _ feel welcome in your home,” Iruka told him firmly, “you’re an excellent cook,” Kakashi could  _ feel _ his wounded pride revive a little with every compliment, and he leaned forward, desperate to hear every kind word Iruka was good enough to share. “...and I can’t wait to see your library. Thank you for being so patient with me.”

Kakashi had no words, not after such a deluge of compliments from someone as important to him as Iruka. But the omega was clearly waiting for a response, so he nodded slowly, desperately trying to collect his thoughts that had been scattered to the four winds by Iruja’s compliments and genuine smile. “You’re... welcome?” he said faintly. “Apology accepted, I mean.”

Iruka grinned back at him, a warm smile that sent joy curling through Kakashi’s body at the realization that the smile was intended for  _ him. _ He had been the one to make Iruka smile like that, and he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Iruka was smiling again! Somehow he’d done it, and now he just had to figure out how to  _ keep _ that smile on his face. 

Interrupting their thoughts was the sound of a door opening and closing, and they both turned to look at the other office door, leading to the private meeting room. Kazuto-sensei was bidding farewell to Ebisu, a tokubetsu jonin, before he caught sight of Kakashi and blanched. Ah yes. His reputation, as always, preceded him. 

Ebisu turned at the look the headmaster made, his eyes landing on Kakashi immediately. He sipped into a quick now of greeting. “Hatake-san,” he said in a mildly pleasant voice, “it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Rising, Kakashi returned his greeting. “And you, Ishimine-san.”

Ebisu poked at his dark glasses and smirked a little. “It’s going to be  _ sensei,  _ soon,” he said. “I’ve just finished the approval process for my teaching license.”

Kakashi blinked in surprise. He hadn’t thought Ebisu was really the teacher sort. “I suppose congratulations are in order. Will you be starting to teach your own classes right away?”

Ebisu seemed slightly taken aback, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “Ah, no, I finished the training so I could begin private tutoring on the side. I’ll be remaining on active duty.”

Kakashi considered Ebisu with renewed interest. Kakashi hadn’t worked with the tokubetsu jonin much since he’d been brought into ANBU, but what he remembered was not bad in terms of skill and general knowledge. “Do you already have students?” Kakashi asked, internally hoping the answer was no. 

“Ah, you got me,” Ebisu said, almost self-consciously. “The Sandaime told me if I got certified, he would recommend my services to his grandson Konohamaru. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that.” 

Now Kakashi was even more impressed. Ebisu must have made great strides to have caught the attention of the Sandaime Hokage himself. “Ah, so you’ll be busy most mornings, then.”

Ebisu frowned, clearly confused by the line of questioning. “No… Konohamaru has to attend school in the mornings, so I was planning on tutoring him in the afternoons.”

“Are you looking for morning students?” Kakashi asked. 

Ebisu tilted his head in curiosity, his sunglasses gleaming in the dim light of the headmaster’s office. “I am. Do you know of someone who might be interested?”

“I might,” Kakashi answered. He wasn’t going to make any firm overtures until  _ after _ he’d spoken with Kazuto-sensei, but it was good to know that Ebisu would be available. And with an endorsement from someone like the Sandaime Hokage, he would probably be a good option, and in high demand before long. It would be good to take steps to gain his cooperation now, before other people approached him. “Do you think we could meet sometime this week to discuss it?”

Ebisu rocked back on his heels, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Of… of course, Hatake-san,” he said. “I’m free tomorrow? Or the day after.”

“Tomorrow,” Kakashi said. “Morning, I assume?”

“Yes,” Ebisu said. “If you don’t mind my asking, should I prepare a sample lesson? Will you be introducing the student to me?”

“A sample lesson would be ideal,” Kakashi said. “You’ll be teaching an adult student, though. Are you comfortable with that?”

Ebisu frowned, more confused than bothered by the revelation. “An adult student?”

Kakashi nodded. “Yes. My husband. He’ll be sitting the next Academy Graduation exam, so he could use some extra tutoring to prepare for it.”

Now Ebisu was craning his neck, presumably glancing behind Kakashi to catch sight of Iruka, who was currently standing behind Kakashi. Kazuto-sensei was peering at Iruka with equal interest. 

“That’s quite an unusual situation,” Kazuto-sensei commented, a hint of disapproval in his tone. “Omegas don’t typically take the graduation exam unless they’re going into the honeypot squads.”

“I’m not always going to be in the village,” Kakashi replied, keeping his voice carefully neutral. “I’d prefer a husband who feels confident in his own abilities to defend himself while I’m off serving the village.”

Ebisu and Kazuto-sensei exchanged surprised glances, but Kazuto-sensei nodded in understanding. “I see. I’m sure an exception can be made, in that case.”

“Ebisu-sensei,” Kakashi said, turning to the tokujo, “what time tomorrow?”

“Ah - ten? Ten. At the training fields?” Ebisu said.

“Which training field?” Kakashi pressed. 

“Uh. Three. Training field three.” Ebisu said, glancing between Kakashi and Iruka again. “See you then. I’ll have the sample lesson ready.”

“Excellent,” Kakashi said, then turned to Kazuto-sensei as Ebiso quickly made his leave “I meant to be a bit more diplomatic about it, but since it’s already been brought up…” he turned to glance at Iruka, who was biting his lip nervously. He turned back to Kazuto-sensei, who gestured for the two of them to follow him. 

“I can guess why you’ve come here,” Kazuto-sensei said with amusement, “but let’s go ahead and step into my meeting room, for formality’s sake.”

Kakashi nodded, following the older man into the room, Iruka trailing behind. Once they were all seated at the round table nested in the small meeting room, Kakashi quickly explained. “My husband was never allowed to take the graduation exam due to his presentation as an omega,” he said. “I want him to take the exam.”

Kazuto-sensei frowned at Kakashi. “You know you could just train him without the formality of a graduation, Hatake-san,” he said.

“I could,” Kakashi agreed, “but in order to take the chunin exams, he’ll need to have an official title of genin.”

Kazuto-sensei blinked in surprise, leaning back in his chair, his gaze flicking from Kakashi to Iruka and back again. “Chunin exams?”

“Yes,” Kakashi said. “I want him to take the Chunin exams. Ideally by next year, if not sooner.”

Kazuto-sensei’s eyes widened as he glanced between Kakashi and Iruka a second time. “You’re aware that it typically takes three years for a genin to prepare for the chunin trials?”

“It took me one year,” Kakashi said. “And I was a child. He’s an adult. Surely he’ll be able to pass the exams after a year.”

Kazuto-sensei shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yes, but Hatake-san, surely you understand that your own experience was… unique. It took you a mere four years to advance your rank to jonin, after all.”

Kakashi hadn’t considered that. He knew that technically speaking, it wasn’t like most people could take the chunin exams after only one year. But Iruka hadn’t neglected his training in the years since he’d left the Academy. He had worked at the mission desk, so he was well aware of codes and protocol, not to mention he’d undergone the required counterintelligence training and had a high level of security clearance. He’d trained with honeypots for a year, and sparred regularly with his friend Kamizuki, who was already ranked chunin. He had some experience in medical ninjutsu, and had enough chakra manipulation abilities to keep his scent under control. It seemed obvious to Kakashi that Iruka would be ready for the chunin exams after a year, but perhaps he was underestimating the difficulty of the exam? It had been a long time since he’d participated in his own exam, after all. “In any case, he won’t be able to take the chunin exams until he’s at the rank of genin. I was hoping he’d be able to join the next batch of academy students during the graduation exam.”

Kazuto-sensei considered Kakashi for a long moment, then turned to look at Iruka. “And how about you, Iruka-kun? It’s been several years since I saw you last. How have you been? Do you think you’ll be ready to take the graduation exam?”

Beside Kakashi, Iruka straightened up a little under Kazuto-sensei’s intense gaze. “Yes, sir,” he said. “I’ll do my best and study hard.”

Kazuto-sensei’s gaze rested on Iruka for another few moments before he turned back to Kakashi. “The graduation exam is in five weeks,” he said. “See that he’s ready by then.”

“I will,” Kakashi assured him. “I was going to ask if you had any recommendations for tutors…”

“Frankly, Hatake-san, you were lucky to encounter Ebisu-sensei when you did,” Kazuto-sensei said. “He’s at the top of my list of recommendations. If that doesn’t work out for whatever reason, it might be worth asking Heike-sensei, or Fukuzatsu-sensei. But Ebisu-sensei is certainly my first choice.”

Kakashi nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you for the recommendations.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Kazuto-sensei asked. 

“That’s all I came for,” Kakashi answered.

“All right then,” Kazuto-sensei said, giving Kakashi a funny look. “Congratulations on your wedding, by the way. I didn’t know you were married.”

Ah. “It’s a… new arrangement,” Kakashi said vaguely. “Thank you for your congratulations.”

“I see,” Kazuto-sensei said, glancing back at Iruka with a hint of a frown. “Well. Good luck to the both of you. I hope Ebisu-sensei works out for you.”

“I hope so too,” Kakashi agreed, rising with the Academy headmaster. “Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome,” Kazuto-sensei said with another glance at Iruka. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” Kakashi replied, and the three of them exited the meeting room, exchanging a second round of farewells before he and Iruka left the office. 

Iruka remained mostly silent as they walked back across the teachers’ office room. His friend, Mizuki, was no longer at his desk, though Kakashi noted with interest that Iruka was pointedly avoiding looking at that side of the room, so he wouldn’t even know of the absence. He shouldn’t have felt gleeful about such a thing, but he did, because that small jealous part of him was glad that Iruka wanted to stay with him, not go back to that other alpha. 

Once they stepped outside, Kakashi paused, considering their next move. He still didn’t have ingredients for dinner, and he needed to buy matches so that Iruka could light the heat stoves in the house if he wasn’t around. “I need to pick up a few groceries,” Kakashi said, turning to Iruka. “You’re welcome to come along, if you want.”

“I… I’d like that,” Iruka said. “Is there anything in particular you need?”

Kakashi realized, then, that he had no idea what kinds of food Iruka liked, besides, well, ramen. “I don’t have anything particular in mind,” he said. “What do you feel like eating?”

Iruka glanced at Kakashi, his eyes sharp, but not with the distrust and irritation of earlier in the day. This time, the sharp look seemed more calculating, like he was trying to figure something out, like Kakashi was a puzzle that he was trying to solve. “I like pretty much anything,” he said finally. “You prefer Japanese food, though, don’t you?”

“I do,” Kakashi admitted. “But I don’t eat exclusively Japanese food.” He didn’t. Sometimes when he went to Gai’s house, the man would make spaghetti. That was Italian food, right? He didn’t actually know how to  _ cook _ anything that wasn’t Japanese food, but he was sure he could pick up a cookbook or two and learn if Iruka wanted to eat something else. He was certain that it wouldn’t take long for him to realize that Kakashi’s cooking really wasn’t all that great, he just knew how to cook a few things well. He never really tired of them, because he spent so long out on missions choking down rations and soldier pills, well, everything tasted better after that. And he was rarely in the village long enough to cook for himself more than a few days. He only had enough recipes to last him five days of unique foods before he’d have to start getting creative. And Iruka had  _ complimented _ his cooking! So now he needed to figure out how to cook more things, so that Iruka could enjoy more things, right? Maybe he should buy a cookbook, too. 

Iruka chuckled, blissfully unaware of the absolute breakdown Kakashi was currently undergoing. “That’s good to know,” he said in a warm tone. “Do you want to eat Japanese tonight, then? Or try something different?”  _ Something different? _ Kakashi didn’t know how to cook  _ something different. _ What if he tried to cook  _ something different _ and it turned out terrible? Iruka would be so disappointed! 

“We could try something different,” Kakashi’s traitorous mouth said, clearly not caring one ounce about the panicked screaming in his head.

Iruka turned and grinned at Kakashi. “What sounds good? We had noodles for lunch, so maybe something rice-based?”

Kakashi nodded, screaming internally. Something rice-based? Was there rice in other cuisines? Why the hell had he never bothered to pick up a cookbook for something other than Japanese food?

“Do you like spicy food?” Iruka asked. “I can eat a little bit of spicy food, but nothing too strong.”

“I can eat a little spicy, too,” Kakashi said. “But not a lot.”

“Great!” Iruka grinned. “Do you like curry? We could make curry.”

_ We? _ When had this dinner gone from Kakashi cooking for them to  _ the both of them _ cooking? He wasn’t sure what scared him more - Iruka not liking his food, or Iruka getting so irritated with him in the kitchen that he refused to eat dinner altogether. He had to be honest. “I’ve never made curry,” he said. “I usually just use the roux cubes.”

Iruka laughed. “Well that’s better than I do, I usually buy the stuff that you boil in the bag,” he admitted. “And I usually buy microwave rice, too.” He grinned. “Curry sounds good. Let’s do that, okay?”

Kakashi nodded slowly, the screaming in his head fading as he took in the wide grin spreading across Iruka’s face. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up... dinner shopping? _More_ communication?


	11. Dinner Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka's never been much of a cook, but Hatake turns out to be a pretty good teacher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Mild discussions of non-con, no actual sexual content

If you had asked Iruka whether it was possible to enjoy shopping for random food ingredients even one day earlier he would have given an emphatic “No” for an answer. Iruka didn’t cook, at least not well. He subsisted mainly on badly cooked rice, instant noodles, and other things that were ready-to-eat with little to no preparation required. Hatake, on the other hand, seemed quite confident in his cooking, which, based on Iruka’s experience, was not unfounded. They picked out a curry roux that was listed at a medium level of spice, and then Hatake quickly picked up carrots, potatoes, onions, and then asked Iruka if he preferred beef curry or some other meat. 

Iruka had beef maybe once a week if he could afford it - sometimes even less often than that, so he asked if that was in the budget. Hatake gave Iruka a funny look before saying, “What kind of beef do you want? I was just going to buy the stew meat, but if you wanted something nicer… I could get some wagyu fillets and have the butcher slice it for curry.”

Iruka gaped at him for several long moments before finally saying, “I’ve never tried wagyu,” and following it up with, “but stew meat is probably best for curry.”

Hatake nodded, picking up a solid three hundred grams of beef - about two hundred more grams than Iruka could usually afford, and tucked it in the shopping basket. “Do you want a Japanese breakfast or something else?” he asked, turning to Iruka and indicating the seafood section. “I’ll pick up fish if you want that, or we could have eggs, or natto.”

Iruka, who regularly skipped breakfast or simply made do with a piece of plain toast, wasn’t sure how to respond, so he settled for honesty. “I don’t eat breakfast most days - when I do, it’s usually just toast. Today’s breakfast was great, though, so I’m sure whatever you decide to make will be wonderful.” 

Hatake ducked his head in a way Iruka was starting to associate with the pink flush that crept up Hatake’s cheeks and stained his ears whenever Iruka complimented him. It made him want to say more nice things to Hatake, to see just how red his face could get. 

He didn’t say anything more, but he grabbed a few more items that Iruka assumed were for breakfast, and then they headed out of the market, making their way back across town and heading for the Hatake residence once more. The closer they got, the more anxious Iruka became - after all, he’d promised himself he would be more honest with Hatake, and he didn’t want another repeat of the night before. But he also wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. So instead of speaking up, he stressed. 

Hatake quickly unloaded the groceries before setting out the curry ingredients on the kitchen table, which appeared to be more intended for meal preparation than for dining. “We need to peel the carrots and potatoes,” he said, picking up the vegetables, “and the onion, too. Do you have a preference?”

Iruka was fairly certain he could perform any of those tasks with only minor difficulty. “Um… I’ll do the potatoes?” he offered.

“Excellent,” Hatake handed him what must have been a vegetable peeler. Iruka probably hadn’t used one in literal years, but he assumed it wouldn’t be hard to recall the process. It turned out that the process was a bit harder to perform than Iruka expected, and he finally finished peeling the potatoes around the time Hatake had finished both the onion and the carrot, and had moved on to chopping the onion, his eyes not even watering. Iruka, on the other hand, could feel the sting of the onions prickling his eyes, and he had to blink hard to try and clear them. “How big do you want the potato pieces?” Iruka asked.

“Bite sized,” Hatake answered. 

Iruka stared down at the lumpy potatoes, trying to evaluate how many pieces a potato should be divided into before it could be considered bite-sized. Beside him, Hatake was already chopping the carrots. With a quick shake of the head, Iruka began. He was about halfway finished when he glanced over at Hatake’s carrots and felt his heart sink. The man’s carrots were all cut in roughly the same thickness and length. Iruka’s potatoes, on the other hand…

Well, to be fair, they  _ were _ all bite-sized! Some were just… really big bites. And other bites were… baby bites. But they were still bites! How was he supposed to know all the pieces were supposed to be the same size? “Oh no,” Iruka said faintly, “I think my bites aren’t very… consistent.”

Hatake glanced over at Iruka’s pile of massacred potatoes, setting his own knife down for a moment. He snorted, not derisively, but almost reflexively, like he’d been taken by surprise and was genuinely amused by whatever it was he’d seen. “It’s fine,” he said. “We’ll just separate them into two piles - big bites and little bites. Can you do that?”

Iruka, who had been expecting at least a smart remark (hell, he’d given himself more grief than Hatake had), blinked in surprise before doing as Hatake suggested, dividing the potatoes into “big” and “little” piles. By the time he’d finished that, Hatake had a pot on the stove heating two tablespoons of oil and was unwrapping the (uniformly) bite-sized beef. He browned the beef before covering it with water, waiting for it to come to a boil. While they waited, Hatake leaned against the counter once more, watching Iruka. 

Nervously, Iruka finished arranging his piles of potatoes and grinned at Hatake. “I’m kind of excited,” he admitted. “I don’t usually cook much.”

Hatake seemed to smile back, his eye crinkling into a grin. “Me neither,” he admitted easily. “But I do cook when I’m home.”

“So you’re not home often?” Iruka asked, considering the implications of Hatake’s statement. 

“No, not really,” Hatake admitted, picking up a thin mesh ladle and skimming a bit of scum that had built up on top of the now gently bubbling water. “I’m out of the village far more than I’m in it.”

“Oh,” Iruka said, not sure if he was pleased or disappointed by the news. Yes, he felt awkward around Hatake, but this house seemed awfully big for him to be staying here alone. “I see.” At least he would have work and training to keep him occupied while Hatake was gone. That had to count for something, right? 

Skimming a bit more of the brown scum, Hatake turned and dumped his carrots into the pot, indicating that Iruka should add his larger potato pieces, too. The onions and smaller potatoes remained on the table. After settling a lid over the mixture, Hatake turned back to Iruka. The silence stretched thin between them, and Iruka wondered what he should say, if anything.

Of course, being anxious about talking usually led to babbling, and this was no exception. “So what are we doing tonight?”

Hatake stared back at Iruka for a long moment before saying, “Eating dinner…? Do you mean after that? I have books. I’m not sure I’m following the question.”

Iruka wasn’t sure this was really the time to be bringing up his lingering anxieties about Hatake, consummating the marriage, and mating, but he also wasn’t sure when  _ would _ be a good time to do so. “I guess I just want to know what you want - or, what you expect - from this arrangement.” 

Hatake blinked slowly, his lone lid drifting down almost lazily before pulling back up, his gaze locked on Iruka. “I try to manage my expectations,” he said in a low voice. “Makes it harder to be disappointed.”

Iruka couldn't argue with the logic of such a statement, but it also wasn’t helping him get to the point. “I mean, I thought you would…you know. Last night. I know it was presumptive, but I assumed…”

Hatake’s expression, what little Iruka could make out, seemed oddly still. “You expected to be forcibly mated.” 

Iruka cringed, nodding as his gaze dropped to the floor. Somehow it sounded worse, coming from Hatake, especially after he’d been so careful with Iruka all day. Now that he was getting to know Hatake better, he felt terrible about making such an assumption, but he didn’t really see how he could have assumed differently! That was the whole reason he’d been given to the alpha, after all. 

Hatake said nothing for several long seconds. Then, he finally said, “While it’s true that most alphas will enjoy a bit of submission from their omega partners, that doesn’t mean they’ll take pleasure in violating someone.” 

Iruka wasn’t sure he agreed, but he also knew Anko and Kotetsu would agree with Hatake, so he waited for the alpha to continue. 

“You didn’t want it,” Hatake said. “I was confused, because you seemed nervous, but then you crawled into my bed, so I thought maybe it was a proposition? And then I smelled…” He shook his head sharply, as if trying to dislodge a wayward thought. “I don’t want my mate to be united with me through the use of force on my part. I face enough violence and ruthlessness in every other part of my life, I don’t want it staring me in the face when I return home, too.”

Iruka felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest at the words. “So you won’t force me?” he asked, his voice so small he wondered if Hatake would even hear it. 

“I’d never forgive myself if I did,” Hatake replied, before turning and lifting the lid of the pot and eyeing the ingredients. “Let’s add the small potatoes and onions now,” he added, as if they’d been talking about something as inconsequential as the weather. 

In a way, Iruka was glad he treated the conversation as something casual, it made the interaction feel less forced and dispelled some of the tension that had been building. Iruka handed over his pile of potatoes, and then the onions. Kakashi stirred them into the bubbling pot before covering it again with the lid. When he’d turned back to face Iruka, Iruka spoke again. “I am sorry for scenting your bed like that,” he said. “I really thought I could…” he felt a mirthless laugh building in his chest as he continued, “…lie back and think of Konoha?” 

Hatake gazed back at Iruka with what seemed to be disappointment. “I hope you know that I would never ask that of you.” 

“I… do,” Iruka said after a moment’s consideration, surprised to realize that it wasn’t even a lie - he really did believe Hatake wouldn’t force him to do something like that. The realization that he genuinely believed Hatake was almost as shocking as the revelation that Hatake felt it was important to reassure him that it would never happen. “Thank you.” 

Hatake nodded, turning and stirring the ingredients in the pot once more. “Thank you for sharing your concerns,” he replied. “I want you to feel like you can come to me with questions. I want this… marriage… to work.”

Iruka could feel the heavy hesitation before the word marriage, and he wondered if Hatake might have been interested in someone else. If maybe he was just trying to endure this farce of a marriage, too. It wouldn’t hurt for Iruka to try and be more honest with Hatake. “I want it to work, too,” Iruka said, and then, “Thank you.” 

Hatake grunted in acknowledgement before settling the lid back on the pot with a sigh, turning to Iruka. “So. Was there anything you wanted to do after dinner? Like I said, I have books. We could start reviewing for your graduation exam.” 

Iruka blinked in surprise. In the anxiety of trying to figure out how to broach the mating topic, he’d almost forgotten about the plan to graduate! “I guess it would be a good idea to start reviewing the information,” Iruka said, scrubbing at the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “I haven’t studied for any tests in… years.”

Hatake nodded. “We can grab a few texts from the library - though they’re probably out of date,” he added, sounding sheepish.

Iruka remembered, then, that Hatake was a prodigy. “Oh, right. You graduated early, right?”

The man nodded slowly. “I was five.”

Five years old. Barely two years older than the kids Iruka taught at the preschool. Iruka tried to imagine little Haru becoming a Genin in two short years, and he couldn’t fathom such a thing. “That’s so young,” Iruka heard himself saying, and winced internally. Would Hatake see that as an insult? A judgement against him? Iruka certainly hadn’t tried to sound impressed by the age. If anything, he’d sounded horrified.

Fortunately, Hatake didn’t take offense at the comment. “Very young,” he agreed. 

Iruka frowned, considering that fact. “And you made Chunin a year later?” he asked, recalling their conversation with the Ninja Academy’s headmaster earlier that afternoon.

Hatake nodded again. “And Jonin four years after that,” he said. 

Iruka blinked. He knew Hatake had been a prodigy, but that… “When did you have time for a childhood?” he wondered, more hypothetical than actually asking. He realized his mistake when he saw Hatake’s shoulders stiffen at his thoughtless question.

“I… didn’t,” Hatake admitted, turning back to the curry and stirring it so he didn’t have to look Iruka in the eye. 

Iruka felt like kicking himself. Of course Hatake hadn’t had a normal childhood, he’d been a ninja from age  _ five, _ when would he have had time to do any of the  _ kid _ things that Iruka remembered fondly? “Right,” Iruka said, not sure what else to say to that. “Uh…” He picked up the knives and cutting boards they’d been using, carefully setting them in the sink and beginning to run the water. He soaped up a sponge and began cleaning them without saying anything else, not quite sure what he could say. How did you tell someone  _ sorry you never had the chance to be a kid _ without sounding condescending? Clearly Hatake had made a life for himself and he seemed to be doing fine, but Iruka couldn’t imagine how different his own life would be if he’d been a  _ Jonin _ the night his parents died. 

Would he have been out there, fighting? Would he have died during the Kyuubi attack? What would have happened to him after his presentation? Would he have been forced into the honeypots? He supposed so. “I guess I’m just grateful for my own experiences,” Iruka said, rinsing a knife and setting it in the dish rack beside the sink. “But I never thought about how they might not be universal. It’s eye-opening.”

Hatake glanced over at him from the stove, his posture seeming to droop as some of the tension he’d been carrying bled out of his frame. “I make that mistake sometimes, too,” he admitted. “I should have asked you this earlier, but… do  _ you _ think you’d be ready to take the Chunin exams in a year?”

Iruka chuckled, scrubbing the cutting board with the sponge a bit more vigorously. “I honestly don’t know,” he said. “I’ve been out of the game so long… I trust your judgement. If you think I’ll be ready, I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.”

“You won’t disappoint me,” Hatake said matter-of-factly, setting the lid back on the pot of curry and moving to Iruka’s other side, grabbing a towel to begin drying the knife he’d finished washing. 

Iruka laughed. “You say that now, but you haven’t seen how truly disappointing I can get,” he said, feeling like he was back in familiar territory. Self-deprecating humor was one of his specialties, after all. 

Hatake grabbed the clean cutting board from the dish rack and frowned at Iruka, his lone visible eyebrow furrowing slightly. “What would you consider disappointing?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Iruka had  _ not _ been expecting this to get so introspective, but he had been the one to start it, so he considered the question as he scrubbed the second cutting board, handing it to Hatake before finally answering. “I mean, a lot of people were disappointed when I dropped out. They said I would have made a great honeypot.”

“You probably would have,” Hatake said mildly, stowing the cutting board in its place before turning back to Iruka. “But having the conviction to choose your own path could hardly be called a disappointment, could it?” 

Iruka shook his head, running the sponge over the second knife a few times before rinsing it, too, “A lot of my friends thought I was being selfish.”

“You were,” Hatake said, accepting the knife from Iruka as he said this. “But who isn’t, from time-to-time?”

Iruka blinked. “But you’ve been serving the village as a shinobi since you were a  _ child.” _

Hatake shrugged. “Maybe I should’ve chosen to be selfish more often,” he said. “Though, it’s too late to worry about that now.” He put the second knife away, moving back around Iruka to stir the curry once more. “It’s almost ready,” he said, setting the lid back over the bubbling mixture of meat, potatoes, carrots, and onions.

Iruka glanced at the roux cubes, still sitting on the table. “When do those go in?”   
  
“The directions say to stir it in after turning off the heat,” Hatake answered, “So we’ll hold off until all of the ingredients have been cooked through, I think.”

Iruka nodded, glad that Hatake had read the directions, since he hadn’t thought of it. He could have completely botched the entire meal without even realizing it. Who knew curry could be so complicated? “Sounds good,” he said, leaning against the table and watching Hatake grab a fork to stab some of the vegetables in the pot. He supposed there was probably a reason for it, and not just because Hatake enjoyed poking vegetables. Maybe he was checking for doneness? He wondered how one checked the doneness of a potato. It’s not like an egg or something where you waited until it was less runny, after all. “What do you look for when you poke a potato?” Iruka asked, mostly to fill the silence.

Hatake paused, turning to Iruka. “Come see for yourself,” he urged, holding the fork out to Iruka.

Iruka took the fork, stepping beside Hatake to stare down at the pot of vegetables. “Okay, so I just… poke one?”   


“Try and see if the fork will stab cleanly through the potato, without much force,” Hatake explained. “If you experience resistance in the middle of the piece, you know it’s not cooked through.”

“Oh,” Iruka said, poking one of the potatoes with the fork, frowning thoughtfully at the way the fork seemed to slow as he neared the center of the piece. “That felt a little difficult, maybe? Is it not done yet?”

“Not quite,” Hatake agreed. “We can check again in about three minutes.”

Iruka nodded. He wasn’t sure if he planned on cooking potatoes again any time soon, but at least now he knew how to check them for doneness. He returned to his place, leaning against the table. Hatake leaned against the counter, facing him. For several agonizing moments, neither of them spoke, the soft bubbling sound of the curry the only break in the monotony. Finally, desperate to break the awkward silence, Iruka fumbled for something to say, and remembered that at one point Hatake had been talking about the library, so maybe that could be a topic to return to. Desperately, Iruka went with the first question his mind could conjure, “So what kind of reading do you usually do? Since you clearly don’t need to study for the Graduation exam.”

Hatake shrugged. “I don’t have much time to read on missions, but it’s nice to relax with a book. I got into this one book that I’ve probably read through two or three times now.”

Iruka nodded. “Nice. What’s the name of the book?”

Hatake’s eye widened, and he turned his head, suddenly fixated with one of the corners of the roof. His entire face seemed to be reddening as he said, “Icha-Icha Paradise.”

Iruka blinked, struggling to form words after that particular revelation. “Ah. Isn’t that just…” _porn?_ His mind helpfully supplied. But he couldn’t say that out loud! _Graphic descriptions of sex?_ _Inappropriate material? Adult content?_ Clearly his mind wasn’t giving him any help in this. “…fiction?” Iruka finally squeaked.

Hatake, eyes still fixed on the ceiling, nodded a little. “Yep,” he said in an equally strangled tone, “very fictional.”

Iruka realized that if he didn’t speak up now he’d have managed to kill the conversation twice in as many minutes. “That’s nice,” he said. “Do you have a favorite character?”

Hatake, still not meeting Iruka’s eyes, asked, “Have you read it?”

Iruka, his own face heating, likely well on its way to matching Hatake’s particularly florid complexion, had to admit, “No…”

“You can borrow my copy, if you want,” Hatake said, flicking his eyes over to Iruka before immediately returning his gaze to the  _ incredibly fascinating _ corner of the roof. 

“Sure,” Iruka said, more to find an ending to the conversation than out of any real interest, “That would be great.”

“Great,” Hatake echoed. 

The silence descended once more, and Hatake seemed even less inclined to begin conversing than he had  _ before _ Iruka had started asking him about his proclivities for porn perusal. Had it been three minutes yet? “Maybe I can check another potato?” Iruka suggested.

Hatake practically fumbled the utensil in his hurry to hand it to Iruka, still not saying a word as he lifted the lid off the pot and stepped aside to give Iruka room to poke vegetables to his heart’s content. 

The fork did seem to stab the potatoes more easily this time. “I think they might be done,” Iruka said, glancing at Hatake.

Hatake took the fork back, poking another potato thoughtfully. “Seems that way,” he agreed. “I can turn off the heat if you grab the roux cubes,” he indicated the box sitting on the counter.

Iruka did so, popping open the box. “Oh, there are two packages.”

“We only need one of them,” Hatake said. “Break the square into four pieces and we can stir it in easier.”

“Okay,” Iruka said, popping out one of the two packages and opening it before staring down at the brown square nestled in the packaging. He pulled it out, and it felt greasy on his fingers. With a grimace, he tried to break it in half. It broke easily, and he broke each half in half again, with no issue. Then he turned to Hatake, who had turned off the burner and was waiting for him. “So I just dump it in?” Iruka asked.

Hatake nodded.

Iruka tossed the four roux cubes into the hot meat-and-vegetable mix, and Hatake began stirring. The cubes quickly dissolved, and the air was quickly filled with the scent of curry. Iruka grinned. It looked a  _ lot _ better than the microwave curry he usually ate. “Oh man, that smells great,” he said excitedly. 

“Let’s grab some plates and take it to the table,” Hatake said. 

“I’ll grab plates,” Iruka said, quickly grabbing them, and stacking some spoons on top before scooting down the hallway for the main room and the kotatsu, setting the table before turning to see Hatake entering with the pot of curry, still steaming, a small bowl of something bright red balanced in one of his hands. “I’ll get the rice!” Iruka told him, moving past Hatake and back to the kitchen to grab the rice. He carried it in just as Hatake was setting down two teacups and pouring tea. The curry smelled great, and he noticed that the small dish Hatake had brought with the curry were pickles. They went great with the curry, and he couldn’t wait to dish up.

“This looks great!” Iruka said excitedly, before feeling sheepish. “Even with my many-bites-sized potatoes.”

Hatake chuckled softly at that, reaching out a hand for Iruka’s plate. Iruka handed it to him, and he served up a fluffy portion of rice before ladling the curry beside it. He handed it back, and Iruka quickly scooped several spoonfuls of pickles over his rice before glancing up to see Hatake had served himself, too, and appeared to be waiting for his turn to scoop up some pickles for himself. Feeling bold, Iruka plopped the next scoop of pickles onto Hatake’s plate instead of his own, enjoying the way Hatake’s eye widened at the gesture. 

“Do you want more?” Iruka asked. 

“Yes, please,” Hatake answered, “Maybe another spoonful or so.”

Iruka plopped a second heaping spoonful of pickles on Hatake’s plate, and the man set it back down in front of himself. Grinning, Iruka served himself a fourth and final spoonful of pickles before clapping his hands together and bowing his head briefly before digging in. He didn’t look up too frequently, aware that Hatake would probably like a bit of privacy with his mask while he ate. The curry was delicious - spicy, but not too spicy, and the pickles were sweet and salty and crunchy - a perfect texture and counterbalance to the heavy spices of the curry. Grinning, Iruka marveled at how he’d actually managed to help cook something so delicious. “I don’t think I’ve ever cooked anything this good before,” he commented, pausing to take a sip of tea and glancing over at Hatake, whose plate was half-empty and face was mostly-covered. “Thank you for teaching me.”

His single eye arched in a clear smile. “I’m glad you like it. I enjoyed making it with you.”

Iruka felt a bit warm inside, appreciating the compliment and feeling slightly flattered that his fumbling in the kitchen had somehow been  _ enjoyable _ for Hatake. “I enjoyed it, too,” he said, ducking his head in mild embarrassment, and quickly taking another bite of curry. He could get used to this, he realized with some surprise. Not just  _ enduring _ the alpha’s presence, but actually  _ enjoying _ his company. The thought was surprisingly welcome. He’d never really thought himself the sort who would enjoy settling down with an alpha.

Hatake just might be the exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! I try to update this fic weekly but I had a concussion last week so I couldn't look at screens without my eyes and head trying to stab me, so... a week delay. >.<
> 
> Hopefully this extra long chapter made up for it!


	12. Breakfast and a Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi and Iruka finish up their chat. Breakfast is had. Then they're off to meet Ebisu for Iruka's sample tutoring lesson...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No CWs for this chapter.

The way Iruka had visibly relaxed after their conversation was incredibly obvious to Kakashi. He regretted not addressing the issue earlier, but he hadn’t exactly felt comfortable provoking Iruka when he’d been so testy all day. Now that they’d addressed some of Iruka’s concerns - though Kakashi noted that he hadn’t spoken the whole truth, as he had chosen not to share the fact that he didn’t want Kakashi as his mate at all - things seemed to be progressing more smoothly. 

At the very least, it seemed likely that Iruka would sleep in his  _ own _ bedroom instead of - 

Kakashi paused, spoonful of curry raised halfway to his face, suddenly remembering that his room probably still smelled of distressed omega, since Iruka had been so upset the night before. He hadn’t thought to air out the futon before they left that morning. 

“Um, Hatake-san?” Iruka said, startling Kakashi from his reverie, “Are you all right?”

Kakashi blinked, setting his spoon down. “I forgot to change my bedsheets,” he said, glancing over at Iruka.

The omega’s face flushed bright red as he immediately realized why that might be a problem. “Oh no, I should have done that this morning, I can’t believe I forgot!” He groaned, dropping his forehead to rest heavily on the kotatsu tabletop. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’ll just sleep outside again,” Kakashi reassured him. It wasn’t that big of a deal, anyway. He slept outside far more than he slept in futons these days. It wasn’t comfortable, but it also wasn’t unfamiliar.

Iruka lifted his head from the table, confusion crossing his features. “Sleep outside  _ again?” _ he repeated, sounding confused. “You slept  _ outside _ last night?"

Kakashi blinked slowly. “Where else would I sleep?”

Iruka’s face twisted a little as he considered the question. “At the kotatsu?” he finally suggested. 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Kakashi explained, now feeling that somehow  _ he _ had become the uncomfortable one. He didn’t understand why this required such a level of scrutiny. It made sense to him when he’d done it, so why was Iruka so confused?

Iruka frowned. “I appreciate that, but-” he cut himself off, then.

Part of Kakashi was glad, since he didn’t think he could take another argument, but part of him hated that Iruka felt like he had to censor himself. Kakashi figured Iruka feeling like he could share his thoughts was probably more important than his already bruised ego, so he pushed a little. “But?”

Iruka sat up fully, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “Well. I mean, don’t take this the wrong way. but…”

A worrying statement, but Kakashi tried not to stiffen at the words, nodding encouragingly.

“…I don’t think you could have done anything to completely get rid of my discomfort at that point, you know? So you didn’t have to do that.” Iruka dropped his hand back to his lap, leaning forward slightly. “Because of the whole, uh, mating thing? It was sort of hanging over my head all day, so whether you slept inside or outside wouldn’t have really made a difference.”

Kakashi fought the urge to grimace at that. He knew he’d fucked up by not bringing up the whole mating thing before, but he hadn’t realized that it was weighing on Iruka like that. He’d assumed the man would see things the way he did - that before anything of that sort was to happen, they had to learn how to be comfortable. Now, knowing that Iruka wasn’t interested in  _ ever  _ being his mate, he could see how he might not have been thinking in terms of how to build a relationship, so it followed that he might have assumed that Kakashi was operating from a similarly limited perspective. “I… see,” Kakashi said, more for something to say to conclude this conversation than for any other reason.

“It wasn’t fair of me to jump to conclusions like that,” Iruka said then, his eyes falling to his hands, still resting in his lap. “I’d heard a lot of things, and… assumed.”

Ah. Yes. The Konoha rumor mill could always be counted on to make Kakashi sound even worse than he really was. “I see,” Kakashi said again, because what else was there to say?

“I mean, the whole reason for this marriage was because they were worried about you going feral,” Iruka said blithely, barking a short laugh. “I thought I was going to be killed, or…” he trailed off then, lifting his hands from his lap and waving them in a frantic gesture of surrender. “I don’t think that  _ anymore,” _ he said. “I just… I don’t know what I’m trying to say,” he finally admitted, setting his hands back down. “Sorry, I guess? I’m trying to say sorry.”

Kakashi thought about the blackouts, the worried looks his kohai seemed to be giving him more and more frequently, the bloody hands and that dark, deep blackness nestled in the very core of his mind, the corner of himself he tried to bury but refused to die. He wondered if Iruka would start to worry all over again if he knew just how close to feral Kakashi really was. “You don’t need to apologize for being cautious,” Kakashi finally said. He tried to open his mouth, to explain that Iruka was probably  _ right _ to be afraid, but he couldn’t bring himself to form the words. He didn’t want Iruka to be afraid of him, even if things would probably be better off that way. 

Iruka sighed, giving Kakashi a half-exasperated, half amused look. “You don’t have to be so nice about this,” he said. “I’m not the only one who was forced into this.”

_ Maybe so, _ Kakashi thought,  _ but I’m clearly a lot less upset about it than you. _ He shrugged, turning back to his curry.

Iruka huffed in what sounded like amusement, and resumed eating also.

By the time the dinner dishes were drying in the dish rack, Kakashi had almost convinced himself that it was a good thing Iruka was no longer afraid of him going feral. 

By the time he finished hanging his futon, which positively reeked of terrified omega, he was certain it was for the best. Kakashi had everything under control, after all. There was no sense scaring the omega over something Kakashi would never allow to become a problem. 

* * *

When Iruka woke the next morning, his first thought was that Hatake definitely worried more about Iruka’s comfort than his own. The whole  _ sleeping outside _ thing really should have tipped him off, but it wasn’t until Iruka had the chance to sleep in the soft, comfortable bed provided to him that he could really reflect on how much Hatake insisted on doing for him. Surely there were better ways for the Jonin to spend his precious free time, but he’d insisted on going to make sure Iruka could keep his jobs, and arranged to meet with a tutor, and then went and slept outside again! 

Though, Iruka reflected after a moment, he’d never explicitly said he was sleeping outside. Maybe he’d taken Iruka’s suggestion and slept at the kotatsu? It was still less comfortable than a futon, but Iruka would feel a little better if he didn’t feel like he’d kicked Hatake out of his own bed two nights in a row. 

Iruka sat up slowly, stretching out and flopping back on the soft pillows with a contented sigh. True, he was still a bit awkward around Hatake, but he felt fairly convinced that they’d be able to work through the awkwardness before long. 

In the center room, Iruka heard the light  _ clink _ of dishes and smiled to himself. He knew Hatake was perfectly capable of setting the table and eating in total silence, so the noise was either intended as a forewarning so that Iruka wouldn’t be startled by his presence, or it was an invitation to join him. 

Iruka was inclined to think it was the latter, and smiled to himself, realizing that he felt  _ glad _ to be invited. He tugged on his clothes before poking his head out of his room. As he expected, Hatake was sitting at the kotasu. Iruka tried to judge whether he’d slept outside or not, but his hair always looked like a disaster and he seemed to always be pale with those dark shadows under his eyes, so he didn’t think any of that would be a very useful indicator of whether Hatake had slept indoors or not. He flashed a quick grin in Hatake’s direction before shuffling down the hall to brush his teeth and wash his face, pulling his hair back into a tight ponytail before poking his head into the kitchen. There was miso soup on the stove again, and freshly cooked rice, too. 

“I didn’t want to cook your fish until you were ready to eat,” came a voice from behind him, and Iruka jumped nearly a foot in the air.

“Don’t  _ scare _ me like that!” he snapped, spinning around to point accusingly at Hatake, who seemed to have silently crept up behind him while he’d been staring at the food. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

Hatake looked genuinely distressed at his words, his oversized reaction reminding Iruka that just yesterday he’d told the man to his face that he’d expected to be murdered in cold blood by him. So maybe he hadn’t chosen the right words in this situation.

“Give a guy a little warning, why don’t you?” Iruka griped, apparently still not very good at knowing when to shut his mouth. Hatake seemed to agree with this sentiment, as his expression seemed to droop even more. Iruka had no idea how such an incredibly powerful jonin had managed to perfect the  _ kicked puppy _ look, but it was definitely the look Hatake was giving him in that moment and it made Iruka feel terrible. “Breakfast looks great, though, so I suppose I’ll let it go this time,” he said, trying for a more teasing tone. Except Hatake didn’t seem to think he was joking, and simply nodded seriously.

“I’ll be more careful to announce my arrival in the future,” he said. “Did you want the fish, or…?”

“If you’re cooking? Absolutely,” Iruka said, “If I’m cooking?” he glanced around with mock dramatics. “Make sure to open all the windows for smoke ventilation.”

Hatake huffed, a sound of actual amusement escaping him, and Iruka counted that as a victory. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, “though you did fine yesterday.”

Iruka wrinkled his nose at that. “I’m pretty sure I ruined half the potatoes in the time it took you to prepare everything else for the curry.”

“They were fine,” Hatake assured him, setting a frying pan on the stove and drizzling a small bit of oil into the pan before lighting the stove to heat it. He tugged open the fridge, withdrawing one of the slices of fish he’d bought the night before in the market. “One?” he pulled out a second, “or two?”

“Just one,” Iruka said.

“Do you want an egg on your rice?” Hatake followed up with another question, plucking an egg out of the fridge and showing it to Iruka, as if he wouldn’t know what an egg was without a visual representation.

Then again, Iruka had been the one to describe himself as terrible at cooking, so maybe it was a valid assumption? He knew what eggs were, though. He just didn’t know how to  _ prepare _ them. That was a minor technicality, but it was still a technicality. “Yes, please,” he said. 

Hatake was now holding up a small styrofoam container. “Natto?”

Was he going to show Iruka every item of food in the fridge? Iruka shook his head. “No thanks,” he said.

“It’s good for you,” Hatake said, setting it on the table next to the egg. “You should eat it.”

Iruka felt his face heat a little at that, and he swallowed hard. He remembered when he was little, and his mom would always insist on him eating natto because it would make him strong and healthy. He glanced at Hatake, and then the styrofoam container of natto, and nodded. “Okay,” he said, feeling a little bit sheepish. How weird was he, to get worked up over something as innocent as  _ natto? _ Lots of people said it was healthy, but it had never really seemed like a compelling reason to eat it after he lost his parents. Now, though…

Iruka jumped in surprise as a loud sizzling noise filled the air. Blinking, he turned to the source of the noise, realizing that in the time he’d spent reflecting on his apparent emotional attachment to  _ firmented soybeans _ of all things, Hatake had tossed the fish into the hot pan and was carefully turning it so that it was cooked evenly on all sides. He’d also taken the initiative to turn on the burner under the miso soup, so that it would be hot by the time the fish was done. 

After a moment of fumbling, Iruka served himself a bowl of rice, popped open the natto container and stirred all the beans around until they were sticky, adding a bit of broth and mustard to them before dumping them over his rice, cracking the egg over the mass of beans and watching it sink into the mixture with a grin. 

From across the room, Iruka heard Hatake clear his throat and practically  _ stomp  _ across the kitchen before saying,  _ still _ from directly behind his left shoulder, “the fish is ready.”

Iruka nearly tossed his natto rice across the room, yelping in surprise. “Can you  _ not _ do that?!” he shrieked, spinning around and throwing his hand not currently occupied with a bowl of rice into the air. “Just talk to my  _ face!” _

Hatake blinked. “I announced myself like you asked.”

Iruka sighed. Clearly, he was going to have to work on his jitters, since Hatake saw no issue with talking to someone from  _ directly _ behind them. He was lucky Iruka didn’t have much of a startle reflex. Then again, maybe  _ Iruka _ was the lucky one. Hatake’s startle reflex was unlikely to sit back and let Iruka attack him, even if it was an instinctive reaction. That sort of thing ran both ways, and Hatake was a Jonin. “Okay,” Iruka said. “And yeah, I noticed. Thank you, for that. I guess I just wasn’t expecting you to talk from _ there, _ and not… you know. In front of me? Where my face is?”

Hatake nodded slowly, extending a plate with a perfectly cooked piece of fish on it. “Do you still want the fish?”

Iruka nodded. 

“I’ll get you a bowl of soup,” Hatake said, handing Iruka the plate and moving back across the kitchen, his slippered feet completely silent as he moved. It seemed like silence was more effortless to him than making sounds would be. 

Iruka frowned a little at the thought of such a thing. How long had Hatake been moving through the world like a ghost, for absolute silence to be  _ more _ comfortable to him than the typical sounds and motions of a  _ normal _ person? “Thank you,” he said, heading back to the main room with the kotatsu, natto rice in one hand, fish in the other. 

Fortunately, the rest of breakfast proceeded without incident, though Iruka was still thinking about Hatake’s silence, and what it might mean with regards to his upbringing, as they finished washing and drying the last of the breakfast dishes.   
  
He hoped that maybe, with time, Hatake might learn to let down his guard a little, to stop drifting through spaces like he wasn’t allowed to be a part of them. Well. That, or he hoped his own observation skills would begin to improve. He just didn’t want to spend the rest of his life being startled half to death in his own kitchen.

* * *

After washing up, Kakashi and Iruka walked to training field three together, where Ebisu-sensei was already waiting for them with a bag full of several books and a variety of weapons, and he wore a serious look on his face. 

“Hatake-san,” he said, greeting Kakashi. “Umino-san,” he added, turning to Iruka.

Iruka dipped his head in a quick bow. He seemed a bit nervous to Kakashi, though it was hard to tell, as Iruka was maintaining a firm control over his scent. Still, he had the stiffness to his movements that hailed back to some of their more tense interactions the day before, so Kakashi assumed that meant he was feeling awkward, possibly even upset. He hoped that the lesson would go well, he didn’t want Iruka feeling nervous during his studies, that would make it more difficult to learn. 

“Good morning, Ishimine-sensei. You said you would prepare a sample lesson,” Kakashi said, indicating the materials that had been laid out with a nod of his head.

“Oh, please call me Ebisu,” the man said quickly. “Both of you,” he added, glancing at Iruka.

“Ebisu-sensei, then,” Kakashi corrected himself. “Do you mind if I stay to observe the lesson?” He noted with some interest that  _ Iruka _ seemed more bothered by his request than Ebisu. Perhaps he’d wanted some time alone? He wanted to kick himself for not  _ asking _ Iruka whether he’d be comfortable with such a thing before going and practically demanding it. He couldn’t back down now, it would seem strange. Internally, he apologized to Iruka and promised to make it up to him, somehow. 

“Of course not, Hatake-san,” Ebisu replied. “Feel free to stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you,” Kakashi said, stepping back. “So how does it start?”

“Well,” Ebisu crouched next to a duffel bag, pulling out a few books and a notebook, lifting his head to glance up at Iruka. “I thought it might help to find out what you already know, so we can tailor your classes to whatever skills of yours are most lacking.”

Iruka bobbed his head, his eyes flitting away from Ebisu to land on Kakashi for a moment before he turned back to face the tutor. Kakashi wondered what the big deal was - he thought Iruka wasn’t afraid of him anymore? Apparently he’d been  _ too  _ hopeful, because Iruka seemed to be a bundle of nerves all over again and Kakashi didn’t know how he’d caused it this time. Was it because he hadn’t asked Iruka to observe? Did that make him seem too controlling? Should he have brought it up earlier? He was second-guessing himself all over again and it was distracting him from the whole reason he’d come along in the first place - to make sure Ebisu was teaching Iruka properly. 

With renewed focus, Kakashi turned back to watch the lesson as it continued. First, Ebisu and Iruka sat down at the corner of the field, passing a few books back and forth while Ebisu asked general questions about Iruka’s background knowledge. He didn’t give much away with his responses - which was to be expected from an experienced shinobi, but it still annoyed Kakashi a little that he couldn’t tell if Iruka was doing well or badly. He hoped Iruka would do well. If they were lucky, they might even be able to start his Chunin training before he passed the graduation exam. That would give him a few months’ head start, which would be useful. But if Iruka needed that time to prepare for the Genin graduation exam, of course that was the first priority. 

After about fifteen minutes of working to identify Iruka’s gaps of knowledge, Ebisu stood up, brushing off his pants before helping Iruka to his feet. Kakashi had to bite back a possessive growl when Ebisu  _ touched _ Iruka, reminding himself that not only was Iruka welcome to touch whoever he pleased, he also certainly wouldn’t appreciate Kakashi getting overprotective over something as innocent as  _ helping someone to their feet. _ So he bit back the growl, swallowing it down until he no longer wanted to rip Ebisu’s hand off. It took longer than he liked to admit, but at least neither of the two men had noticed his slip.

“From here, we’ll do a quick spar to evaluate your combat proficiency,” Ebisu said, before turning to Kakashi. “Hatake-san, would you mind filling in as a sparring partner so I can direct my full attention to Iruka’s technique?”

It took Kakashi an embarrassingly long time to finally respond. “...what?”

“I’d like you to spar. With your husband,” Ebisu indicated Iruka. “So I can evaluate his combat skills.”

Kakashi glanced at Iruka, who was staring back at him with eyes as wide as saucers. “Maa,” he said, scrubbing at the back of his neck, fishing for something to say in the face of this unexpected request. “If it’ll help you teach him…” he turned to Iruka, “…and you don’t mind.”

Ebisu was already pulling out his notebook again, pen in hand to take notes. “It would be extremely helpful,” he said. 

Kakashi had a lot of experience sparring with people who were less skilled than himself. What he didn’t have a lot of experience with was sparring someone he was physically attracted to and  _ terrified _ of hurting, in any capacity. Usually in sparring, people got hurt, and that was part of the exercise - fighting through pain after getting hit was as much a part of training as learning to not get hit in the first place. But he didn’t want to hurt Iruka. He wasn’t sure he  _ could. _

“It’s fine with me,” Iruka said, his voice soft. He glanced at Kakashi. “Just. Go easy on me?”

Kakashi nodded slowly. As if there was any chance of that  _ not  _ happening. “Of course.”

Iruka turned to Ebisu with a determined look on his face. “Do you want to see my taijutsu, ninjutsu, genjutsu demonstrated in separate rounds? Or would it be better to see me use all of them as the opportunities present themselves during the match?”   
  
“Go ahead and use your best discretion, it’ll help me evaluate your strategic capabilities, too,” Ebisu said.

Iruka nodded and turned back to Kakashi, dipping into a short bow. “Ready when you are,” he said, his voice still a bit too soft and nervous for Kakashi to take any comfort from the words.

“Then let’s begin,” he said, readying himself for the first attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, again!! I really wanted to get this finished sooner but life really just said "hey let's kick while the author is down" and so i've been dealing with a lot of stress and real-life things T.T  
> Hopefully I'll get them sorted soon, I'd like to go back to my weekly update schedule as soon as possible. Until then, hopefully the sporadic updates are sufficient.  
> I had a LOT of fun writing this chapter, and I hope that the timeline of this fic will be speeding up from here, lol.  
> I still might need to revise my chapter count, lol. 25 is starting to look like it might have been a bit of an underestimation (>.<;)  
> Thanks as always for all the support and feedback, i really love this story and I'm so glad that you all love it too!! :D :D :D


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